Childhood Memories
by StrangeSweetSound
Summary: Erik and Amelia escape the traveling fair and fall in love. But once their feelings are revealed, she loses her memory and forgets him. Now he must make her fall in love with him all over again. Love, jealousy, deceit, and music all entwined as one...
1. Running Away

**Running Away**

Amelia Simon sat on her bed recalling what had just happened ten minutes ago.

_She had been reading her sister a story when her mother returned from what she called work. She was very strict about keeping the house in shape while she was gone during the day. She wanted everything to look perfect just in case a visitor stopped by. All of the children had finished their chores…all except Amelia._

"_I told you to have your chores done before I get home! Your brothers and even your sister all have finished. Why is it always you?" her mother said heatedly. When Amelia didn't respond, she added, "I take care of this family, I am a working woman! Would it kill you to just do what I–"_

"_**Working woman?**__You call what you do during the day work? It doesn't take much talent to do what you do, you whore!"_

_Her mother's eyes flashed dangerously and she slapped her, hard, across the cheek. Amelia sank to her knees, but didn't dare let one tear fall._

"_You will have no supper tonight," her mother said coldly._

And so there she sat, while the rest of her so-called 'family' ate dinner. Amelia couldn't call it a family. She wouldn't call it a family. She didn't have any true brothers or sisters. All of her siblings, her three brothers and one sister, were half. Not one of them had the same father. First came Paul who was seventeen; then it was David who was fifteen; next was Amelia who was thirteen; then Jonathan who was ten; and finally Abigail who was only six.

Having only brothers to look up to, Amelia had become some what of a tomboy. She got dirty and rough housed with them. Yet, she still had time to play dolls with Abbie and read to her at night. Sometimes she felt like the outcast of the family. Her mother always seemed to have something to punish her for. She was the one Amelia truly couldn't stand.

She looked out the open window and sighed unhappily. She couldn't stay at that pathetic excuse for a house anymore. There was never a time to be a happy, normal family. They could _never_ be a normal family; all because of her mother. Amelia brought her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them. A normal family was all she wanted. She wanted someone to love.

She heard her brothers stampede to their room, signaling that supper was over. Amelia rubbed her eyes and spread her body out on her bed. Her younger sister Abbie opened the door to the room they shared. She walked over to Amelia's bed and smiled at her. She reached into her dress pocket, and Amelia noticed that there was a lump there. As her hand came out of it, she saw a warm roll.

"Thank you, Abbie," she whispered, and at the bread.

Later that evening, Amelia began to read a story to Abbie whilst in bed. But, as she read the fairy-tale, the more she realized that her half sister was the only reason she was staying at that house. When Amelia was almost done with her story, their door opened.

"Go to sleep," her mother said curtly.

"Yes, ma'am," the two girls said in unison.

They got ready silently, knowing their mother wouldn't be happy if they did otherwise. Amelia was lying awake in her bed, thinking. She gazed out the open window, so many thoughts and ideas swimming through her head. There was nothing to live for here. This broken family couldn't offer her the love she wanted. Her tired eyes looked over at the blonde girl sleeping across the room.

_She will do fine here without me, _she thought. _Paul will take care of her. He won't let Mother hurt her…_

Amelia waited for a couple more hours before she gathered a few belongings in her pillowcase. She took a deep breath, and lightly kissed her half-sister on the forehead.

"Take care of yourself," she whispered as softly as possible.

After taking one last glance of their room, she climbed out of the window without a sound. The moon was full and gave her a source of light. Amelia walked along a dirt road for hours, little noises frightening her. She thought she heard a rustling in nearby bushes. What was she thinking? She didn't even know where she was going!

_No. Be strong. I know where I am going, and it's as far away from that house as possible. Nothing scares me._

It must have been very early in the morning when she found an abandoned tent. She looked up at the vast cloth. It flapped ever so gently in the light breeze. It was rather taunting. But her legs were about to give in from fatigue. Overcoming her fears, Amelia put her belongings on the ground and laid her head on them. The chirping of crickets was so peaceful…

* * *

The sound of voices woke her up. Amelia yawned and rubbed her eyes. She slowly sat up to find that it was morning. She whipped her head around once she heard yelling. Amelia crouched down and crawled to the opening of the tent. Her ocean-colored eyes squinted against the morning sun.

There was a group of dark-skinned men surrounding a white man. They were pushing him around, yelling profanities at him. _Gypsies…_ From what Amelia could hear, it sounded as though the white man hadn't paid for something and he wanted to tell the authorities about something else... The gypsy men attacked him. She felt herself gasp. They were beating him furiously, mercilessly. Amelia felt tears well up in her eyes as she watched them maul the man.

She was frightened. What kind of world had she walked into? Why did she choose to leave the safety, more or less, of her home? A young gypsy man pulled out a jagged blade. Amelia's eyes widened. A few men held their prisoner down. She saw that his face was bruised and bleeding. The gypsy man slit his throat. She screamed. The dead body slumped over and the men looked towards Amelia.

Her stomach dropped._RUN!_ her mind screamed at her. And so she ran. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her. The men were advancing on her. She let out a cry and ran faster. A root tripped her. Amelia went facedown into the ground and slid a little bit from her momentum.

One of the men grabbed her by the wrists. She instantly kicked him where she knew it would hurt most. He immediately let her go and she ran again. There were too many of them. Another gypsy grabbed her; he was much stronger. She struggled, slowly losing her energy. He carried her over to a large cage and opened the door. Tossing her in the cage, he muttered a few rude things.

"We can't have some little girl knowing about this. Bad things could happen. We wouldn't want to lose our main attraction, now, would we?" She heard a few of them talking.

She hated herself. She was locked in some cage in the middle of nowhere. Her face was scraped and dirty from falling down. It hurt. Amelia began to sob uncontrollably. _What are they going to do to me? How am I going to get out of here?_

"Why are you crying?" a timid voice asked quietly.

She looked up, confused. After glancing around the cage, she said, "I– I don't know where I am…"

Then she saw him. A scrawny, dirty boy with a burlap sack over his head was sitting on the other side of the cage. Old trousers were his only clothing. Amelia looked at this odd boy. There were holes in the sack for his eyes to see through. She noticed that his eyes were dark brown. They sat in silence until he spoke again.

"It's a traveling fair, run by those gypsies," he said, sounding as if he flinched on the last word.

"They can't just lock us up like this," she replied, looking at her hands.

"I deserve to be locked up," he said sadly.

"Why?"

His long finger pointed at the sack over his head.

"I don't get it."

"Forget it."

"No, tell me." she asked earnestly.

"My–"

A gypsy walked in the tent. The two fell silent. He went over to the cage, unlocked it, and pulled Amelia out. He was grasping her arm. She didn't try to escape, but she made sure her body was as far away as possible. He took her to a room and locked her in it.

"What is going on?" she asked, confused. The gypsy cackled on the other side of the door.

"Only people who pay can see the Devil's Child!" She stared at the door for a moment, then sat in a corner and waited.

While she was sitting in that room, she'd heard distant screaming and laughter. Later, another gypsy came to the room and took her back to the cage. The boy from before was curled up in a corner. She said nothing and pulled her knees to her chest. That man must've been referring to this boy when he said 'Devil's Child.' So many thoughts came to her mind. Why does he have a sack over his head? What is his name? Why does he deserve to be locked up?

Her clear blue-green eyes looked over at him. There were raised red marks on his back. She cleared her throat. The boy turned his head, saw her, then turned completely around.

"Why?" she asked softly, continuing their conversation. Amelia could hear his ragged breathing.

"My–… my face," he said barely audibly.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked meekly.

"It's not… normal."

This conversation was rather uncomfortable for both of them. She finally spoke up, starting new conversation.

"My name is Amelia Simon," she said. The boy looked up at her.

"The gypsies don't think I should have a name. They get angry if I say it… I don't want you to say it and get in trouble."

Amelia stared at him. His face couldn't be _that_ bad, could it?

"I won't say it," she told him. The boy's head turned from side to side, making sure there were no gypsies near. He crawled over to Amelia and whispered in her ear. A smile crept along her lips after he told her his name.

"I like that name," she said.

* * *

It had been a month since Amelia ran away from home. Half of the time she didn't even know what city they were in. But every time it was the same; a gypsy would lock her in a room while they tortured that poor boy. But in that month's time, she kept her promise: she never spoke the boy's name.

One night she returned from the room they locked her in. When she saw the boy, she gasped. Instead of having the usual red lashings, some places were bleeding, and others were badly bruised. She crawled over to the spot where he was sitting.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly. Her fingers touched a bruise on his arm softly. "I tried to get away," he said hoarsely. "I couldn't stand it, so I tried to get out." Amelia's eyes were filled with pity. How could they sleep at night knowing that they had beaten him?

His hand was holding his stomach. "What is it?" she asked gently. She took his hand and slowly pulled it off his stomach. He lay down and groaned from the pain. Amelia examined his stomach. It had a gash, but it was not very deep. Her soft fingers ran across the sides of the wound. She was trying to see if there were any bumps in his skin; fragments of who knows what could have gotten into the laceration. He sighed. She thought for a moment, and then ripped off some cloth from the bottom of her dress. She wrapped it around his body, covering the cut.

She sat next to him and took his hand. "Thanks, Mia," he said softly. Giving him a small smile, she ran her thumb across the top of his hand. His breathing became slow and even. He had fallen asleep. Yawning, Amelia lied down next to him and also fell asleep.


	2. Closer

**Closer**

He woke up first and saw his friend sleeping next to him, holding his hand. Had his eyes deceived him? Did he have a friend? Never in his life had someone been kind to him. Slowly he sat up and looked down at her, sandy blonde hair spread out around her head. Her cheek had a small, almost unnoticeable scar on it from the first day she came to the traveling fair.

Slowly, he took his hand out of hers. She stirred and her eyes fluttered open. Amelia sat up and rubbed her eyes. Neither of them said anything. They had learned to be quiet around the gypsies. If they were too loud, the boy would be beat or they could separate them. Amelia and the boy realized that they should stick together.

A gypsy came into the Devil's Child tent and started to take it down. The two sat on opposite sides of the cage, pretending not to notice each other. He tied the tent down over the cage. They knew that they were going to a new city for another fair. There were wheels on the bottom of the cage, like a trailer that was pulled from town to town. Before they started on the journey, the gypsy came back and tossed a couple slices of stale bread into the cage.

They swayed from side to side because of the movement of the trailer. She was thinking about a fairy-tale she used to read to Abbie. It was called 'Angel of Music'. Her younger sister would always ask her to read this story before she went to sleep. Abbie truly believed in the Angel of Music. She always said that the Angel had blessed Amelia with the wonderful talent of playing the violin. She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her.

"My little sister," she said without looking up. "I used to read to her all the time. She believed in the silliest fair-tales…" Finally, she looked over at him. Tears stung her eyes as she said softly, "I miss her."

He got up and sat next to her. Neither of them spoke for a while. The winds outside moaned and made Amelia feel cold. "Her favorite story," she said, swallowing tears, "was 'Angel of Music'. I read it to her every night. '_Little Lotte let her mind wander. Little Lotte thought, am I a fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes or of chocolates? No, what I love best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed_,'" she recited the story. "_And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head. The Angel of Music sings songs in my head…_" she sang.

He looked over at her when she sang. He liked the sound of her voice, whether she was singing or speaking. Once she told him about her sister, he wanted to know more. After biting his tongue for a while, he finally asked, "What was your family like?"

She made a disapproving sound. "I could hardly call it a family. I was the middle of five kids and none of us had the same father. Paul was the oldest, seventeen, then David, fifteen. David was probably closest to me out of my brothers. Then it was me. After me came Jon; he was ten. And Abbie, she was six. And probably closest of all my siblings because we were the only girls." She sighed.

"And my mother was the reason why I ran away from home. I never felt like she loved me. It was like I was a burden to her; like she _had_ to keep me. The day that I ran away, she hit me. She was a whore. That was her day job. That's how she provided for us. _That_ is why none of us have the same father."

The boy stared at her through the eye holes. She sighed again as silence enveloped them once more. It was unbearably uncomfortable. He tried to think of something to say. So he said the first thing that came to mind, "What are your weaknesses?"

Amelia looked at him for a moment, rather confused by the random question. But she answered, "When people play with my hair, I immediately become relaxed. I have fallen asleep on multiple occasions. And I'm incredibly ticklish." she smiled. "What's your weakness?" He thought, and then shrugged.

"This, I guess," he said, pointing to the wound on his stomach.

"Not physically. Emotionally." she said laughing a little.

"I don't know… Nobody's ever tried to tickle me before, and I don't think I've laughed in years."

Amelia stared at him. Though there was nothing funny about the traveling fair, it made her sad to think that he hadn't laughed for that long. "That's terrible." He shrugged. She moved a little closer to him and slowly lifted up the part of the sack covering his left ear. A light puff of air came from her lips and tickled his ear. He laughed a little and so did she.

Amelia lunged at him, trying to tickle him. They rolled all over the cage laughing and tickling each other. Both of their sides hurt from laughing so much. Finally, when they stopped, he ended up on top of her. They stared at each other. His heart was thumping painfully inside his chest from laughing and from how stunning she looked. Even after being here for only a month, Amelia still looked as beautiful as the first time he saw her.

Her blue green eyes stared up into his dark brown ones. Now _her_ heart was thumping. She couldn't stand feeling this way, so she blurted out, "What about your family?" He got off of her. The spark between them was now extinguished because of that stupid question.

"I… My father… I never knew him. My mother kept me until I was eleven. She let me fall asleep in the carriage when we went to a city I'd never been to. When I woke up, I wasn't in the carriage. So I wandered around the city. Many people, of course, noticed me because I was wearing a mask. Then a gypsy caught me, saw my face, and added me to this fair." He fell silent.

She looked at him. "I'm so sorry, Er –" His hand immediately covered her mouth. She gasped, shaking her head. "Don't say it." Her eyebrows were raised sadly and she nodded. He withdrew his hand from her face, and then turned around. "I didn't mean to. It just slipped out. I'm sorry," she said to his back.

He took the sack off his head, but didn't face her. She heard him sigh. His hair was black and very messy. "Mia…" he whispered. She touched his back uncertainly. His left hand was at his side, and his right was on his face. She bit her lip when she realized he was turning around. Finally she saw his face, or at least the left side.

The uncovered side wasn't ugly at all; as a matter of fact, it was completely the opposite. He was rather handsome in her opinion. His one showing dark eye stared hopefully into her light ones. She attempted to smile, and barely succeeded. Swallowing hard, she pulled him to her, hugging him. At first, he didn't return the hug, but placed his left hand along her back.

Unwillingly a tear fell down his face. When they let go of each other, he saw that Amelia had also unwillingly let a few tears fall. He figured this because she was wiping them away quickly.

After biting her lip she asked, "When can I see your whole face?"

His nice smile slowly faded. "When we're both ready, I guess," he replied softly. He picked up the sack and was about to put it over his head, but Amelia stopped him. Noticing the confused look on his face, she said, "I wanted to have one last glance."

Then almost automatically, she reached up and let her fingers run softly down his cheek. His face had a tingling sensation where she touched him. She allowed a smile to cross her lips. The left side of his lips curled upwards, then he put the sack back on his head. They were holding hands, but didn't realize it. Or at least, Amelia didn't realize it until his thumb caressed the top of her hand. She looked down at their hands, and her stomach fluttered.

She never realized how big his hands were. She let go of it, but ran her index finger down each of his long fingers. "How old are you?" she asked softly, still looking down at his hand. "Thirteen," he responded, looking down at their hands also. She held his hand once more and looked up at him.

"We need to get out of here," she said, a serious look in her eyes.

"You saw what happened when I tried to escape. I don't want them to do that to you as well." There was a stern look in his eyes. She sighed. "Then we should make a plan." "Mia…" he said uncertainly. She put both of her hands around his right one. "Please! We can't stay here. I can't stand to see you after each…" she trailed off. But he understood what she meant.

"Alright, what do you suggest we do?" he asked. She thought.

"I don't know," she said in a frustrated tone after a while of thinking. "There's no way of escaping those…things," he said bitterly. But Amelia wouldn't give up.

The trailer came to a halt. She got up, hearing voice, him at her side. "Paris… a rather nice city…first show in a week." a gypsy woman was saying to another. "Paris?" Amelia mused softly.

"We have a week to come up with a plan."

"What?"

The gypsies got closer, so the two sat on opposite ends as before.

"Girl, unload that trailer." said the gypsy woman, unlocking the cage. She got up and followed the woman to the trailer. It was nighttime when she finished unloading most of the trailers. She crawled back into the cage, exhausted. He got up and went over to her. She collapsed at his feet, and he lay down next to her. They held each other's hands, and then fell asleep.

When he woke up, he saw that Amelia and he were further apart. Her back was to him and her long hair was spread out behind her. A smile was hidden behind the sack. He sat in the corner and tried to think of a plan. Later, she woke up and looked over at him.

"What is it?" she asked, able to see that he was very pensive.

"I'm thinking about what you said last night."

"About escaping?"

"Yes, but one thing could make all the difference."

He turned towards her and ran his fingers through her hair. She immediately closed her eyes, but opened them back up when he took out a hair pin. "Mia, could you pick the lock with this next week?" he asked earnestly. She stared at the pin for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, this is my plan…"

* * *

For the next three days, the gypsies had Amelia doing many chores to prepare for the fair. Each night she would come into the cage incredibly exhausted. Every once and a while, she would ask if she could bathe. Finally, the night before the show a younger gypsy said, "Bathe in there. Ten minutes."

There was a giant barrel full of water in the corner. She undressed and stepped into it. The water felt so wonderful on her dirty body. She washed herself as thoroughly as possible. When she finished, Amelia started putting on her slip. Once she pulled it over her head and reached for her dress she heard the door open. It was the young gypsy.

He looked around nineteen. She covered herself with her dress, while he walked towards her. There was a hint of lust in his eyes. Breathing quickly she said, "Monsieur–" But he put up a hand to silence her. He was standing in front of her now. His hands touched her sides; her breathing sped up. Then he moved them up and massaged her stomach. She seemed frozen on the spot, petrified.

Biting her lip hard, she closed her eyes. Suddenly, the gypsy slid his hands up to her chest. A surprised and scared gasp came from her lips. She tried to back away, but the wall stopped her. _Why are you letting him do this?_ she screamed mentally. _You're not helpless, do something! _His hands went to her shoulders, then back to her sides.

"Why do you fear me?" he asked lustfully. Her eyes shot open. "I don't," she said coldly. Amelia grabbed his wrists and twisted them until she felt something pop. Then she kneed him where it would hurt most. She grabbed her dress ad ran out of the room to the cage with tears streaming down her face.

Sitting on her knees, she cried into her hands. "Mia…?" came a distant voice. His hand touched her arm and she turned to face him. Hands cupping her face, he asked, "What happened?" She let out a scared breath. "He.. He touched me." The boy pulled her to him, with a hand on the back of her wet head.

Then he remembered what relaxed her and ran his fingers through her damp hair. Her breathing slowed down and he eventually felt no more tears. Then they let go and looked at each other. Her bottom lip was trembling, he noticed.

He reached up and dried off her wet cheeks. As he took his hand off her cheek, she took it. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Could she really be falling for him? There was a silence that Amelia did not notice, for she was so absorbed in her own thoughts. But his voice brought her back to the cage and out of her mind.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" She looked up at him and shook her head. He sighed in relief. "Well," he whispered, "at least we won't have to worry about him after tomorrow." She nodded slowly. She couldn't stand being there any more. The only thing keeping her going was that boy. Her eyes closed.

She felt him move closer and opened them back up. His dark brown eyes were staring at her though the eye holes in the sack. She took his other hand and whispered shakily, "You've been my only friend. I – I can't bear seeing you hurt again." There were tears in her eyes. Then she thought she saw that his eyes looked glassy.

He reached up and put his hand on her cheek. Leaning her head into his hand, Amelia closed her eyes and a tear fell. "Mia, I can't stand it when you cry. Please don't." Her breathing was a little shaky. Again, his thumb wiped away her tears. Then she opened her eyes; the expression in them had changed from sadness to curiosity and longing.

She took his hand off her cheek, while staring into his eyes. Slowly, she reached up under the sack. At first he moved back a little, but then he realized her intentions. Her fingertips moved delicately from his temple, down his cheek, the stopped at his chin. The entire time, they were looking into each other's eyes intently.

Her index finger traced his lips a little unsurely. He took her wrist making her stop right on top of his lips. Then, he kissed her finger. She bit her lip and took back her hand. This strange side of her couldn't stand the way she was feeling. And it wouldn't let her continue.

They wordlessly agreed to go to sleep. Once more, they lied down on the floor of the cage for, hopefully, the last time.

The following morning consisted of setting all the tents and other side shows up. The younger gypsy was a little ways away from her. He scowled as he watched her set up a tent. Taking a sideways glance at him, she noticed that he had something wrapped around his left wrist. Amelia smirked a little, knowing that she had caused some type of pain.

That evening, the gypsy who ran the 'Devil's Child' show, locked her in the same room. Soon, the plan they came up with would be taken into action. But for now, Amelia sat impatiently in a corner…. waiting.


	3. Escaping

**Escaping**

The boy saw a large group of girls approaching the tent. They were followed by many other people eager to see the Devil's Child.

"Come, come, come inside. Come and see the Devil's Child!" said the gypsy. The boy knew that he would be harder on him because there were many girls in the audience.

Cowering in a corner would not help, he knew that, and yet, he found himself in the same spot he had been in on the first show. The sack slipped off his head and he heard scrams, gasps, and cruel laughter. This part of the show was something else that had never changed. The gypsy had picked up the whip. Then he felt it.

Searing pain went through his entire body when the whip came in contact with it. Laughter. Cruel laughter. He opened his eyes not knowing what he wanted to see. All of the girls were laughing… all but one. She looked a little older than the rest. A look of extreme pity was on her face. He wasn't very surprised. At some shows, there was at most one person who felt pity for him. But at most, there were none.

The terrible pain came again and again. He started to feel sick. His teeth were clenched, doing his best not to give them what they wanted: him to cry out. Then he heard another scream. _Stupid girls,_ he thought. _You've seen my face. Why scream now?_

But he didn't see who had screamed…

Amelia couldn't stand waiting anymore. She picked the lock easily and came out of the room. She didn't even realize that she had screamed. Then she cursed herself for doing so. Quickly, she darted across the hall so she was hidden by the side of the tent. Amelia peeked around the tent and felt her chest tighten. Every time he got hit with the whip, she flinched. Hatred was boiling in her stomach, but she forced herself not to move until the crowd left.

One by one, the last of the audience left. There appeared to be many young girls. Most of them were laughing as they walked away. The final girl did not have a cruel face, however. She looked pitifully at the boy, and then turned to leave. There the gypsy was greedily counting the money, so vulnerable to anything because he was so absorbed in his money.

The boy pulled the sack back over his head and turned around. He saw Amelia and gave her the signal to wait. She nodded and watched. The boy grabbed a rope and slowly approached the gypsy from behind. Suddenly, he threw the rope around his neck and began to strangle him. Amelia watched in horror.

The boy called, "Go Mia! Get the keys!" She jumped, then ran over to the keys.

After hearing a thud, she glanced behind her. The gypsy had fallen to the ground. Her blue green eyes widened as she hurried back over to the cage. Amelia fumbled skittishly with each key. Five tries and nothing worked. Tears started to blur her vision as she heard other voices. She turned and saw the younger gypsy.

What was she going to do? He was going to hurt her; she could see it in his eyes. She needed a weapon to protect herself. What is that over there on a table? A pan… She picked the pan up and hit him hard over the head with it. He, too, fell to the ground. Unconscious or dead, neither of them knew.

"I can't do it!" she cried when she dropped the key ring. He reached through the bars and took her chin. "Look at me, Mia." She looked up at him.

"It's going to be okay. We're going to do this." She nodded and tried another key. It worked.

The cage door swung open and they took each other's hands. But when they came to the entrance of the tent, somebody was there. It was the girl. She looked bewildered; she had seen the whole thing. There were more voices approaching. The girl whispered, "Quick! Follow me!" They ran after her until they came upon a giant building. "In there." They slipped through a small opening against the bottom of the building and waited. The boy went first and then called her to come. Amelia did so, and he helped her down.

The two stood in an empty room that was a little cold. Amelia stood close to the boy, both frightened and confused. He held her hand protectively as he looked around the room. There were distant footsteps and the girl came running from a different direction. She was carrying a small blanket and handed it to them.

"My name is Marie. You can stay down here," she said breathlessly. Marie looked like she really wanted to help them, but she didn't know how.

As she began to leave, Amelia grabbed her arm. "Wait! Where are we?"

"The Opera Populaire," Marie said, and turned and left.

The two sat in a cold corner and didn't feel any freer than they did in the cage. Amelia fell asleep with the blanket on the cool floor facing the boy. He watched her as her chest gently moved up and down. After a while of just sitting there, watching Amelia and looking around, the boy fell asleep too.

The next morning Marie came down to see them, carrying some biscuits.

"Can you sing, dance, or play an instrument?" she asked Amelia.

"Well, I can play the violin…" she replied uncertainly.

"Excellent! Monsieur Reyer is in need of violinists!"

"Who–?"

Before she could finish her question, Marie was dragging her up many flights of stairs. They were walking so quickly, Amelia couldn't even admire the Opera's beauty. Then they entered a large auditorium. Marie walked up to a man sanding in front of an orchestra.

"Monsieur Reyer, I have found a violinist," she said.

"Where?" he asked hopefully, looking behind them.

"Here," she said, pushing Amelia towards him.

He stared at her for a moment, then he said, "This is not a youth orchestra, Mademoiselle! The youngest member is at least eighteen!"

"Actually," came a clear girl's voice, "I am fifteen, Monsieur Reyer." She was a tall slim girl with dark hair. There was a harp next to the chair she had been sitting on. Her clear blue eyes looked at Amelia and she said, "I'm Caitlin. Harpist." She smiled at her, then looked at Monsieur Reyer.

"We do need a little more youth, monsieur. And, this has been your only offer for a violinist."

After thinking for a moment he reluctantly said, "Alright."

Amelia was lent a violin and was told that she was to start in two weeks. "Thank you!" she told Marie when they were on their way back. "But what is he to do?" she asked quietly. "Sadly, I don't think there is anything he can do. I wish there was something." Marie left her, and Amelia met the boy. He was sitting, looking rather bored.

Amelia set down the violin case in front of him. He looked at it curiously.

"I play the violin in the orchestra now," she said softly. He didn't reply. She suddenly felt bad for leaving him alone earlier. She hesitated and then opened the case. Amelia lifted the violin out of the case and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed as he took it. His dark eyes looked at her for a moment, then gazed at the beautiful instrument. He lightly plucked each string, listening to the soft twang.

She was intrigued by the way he held her violin. He embraced it as if it were a small child. His dirty fingers rang along the edges of the mahogany wood. Without speaking, the boy took Amelia's hand showed her how it felt. Although she'd played for years and knew what a violin felt like, she found this sensation quite new. His hand was gently clutching her wrist and moving her hand along the back of her violin.

They sat in silence. "Let's explore," Amelia told him. He looked up. She grabbed his hand and put the violin in its case on the floor by the blanket. They went down a few flights of stairs. They were close to the bottom of the Opera. Then there was water. Trudging through the water, they finally came to a cavernous room. Unable to speak, they both just looked around. The walls were rocks, but it seemed nothing like a cave.

A while later, they were lying on the ground, looking up at the great ceiling. "We should get a boat," he said. "This could be our home," Amelia said dreamily.

The following two weeks, they went down to that cavernous space. Amelia would practice her violin before she actually started the orchestra. She would play old pieces that she had memorized. He would watch and listen, loving every sound of music she made. When she played in that room, every note would echo off the cave walls beautifully.

The day before she started in the orchestra, they were in the grotto again. The constant dripping of water enveloped them as they lay on the ground.

Sighing, Amelia said, "Can I say your name now?" He nodded. She smiled and sat up. He sat up too. Staring into his eyes she said, "_Erik_." He felt gooseflesh rise all over his body.

"I really do love that name," she told Erik. He took her hand and brought it towards his face. Then he took her index finger and placed it on his lips, under the sack.

"Erik," she whispered. He kissed her finger. She repeated his name, loving they way it rolled off her tongue.

They went back to the cold room where the blanket and violin were. Slowly, she crawled into his lap and he put his arms around her. He gently ran his fingers through her hair. Amelia closed her eyes and leaned against him. Within minutes she fell asleep. As smoothly as possible, Erik placed her on the ground. Then he lied down next to her.

* * *

She woke up with a start. Looking around, Amelia saw that he was asleep. "Erik," she said shaking his shoulders. He simply mumbled and rolled over. She grabbed her violin case and ran as fast as she could up the endless flights of stairs. There were so many and they slowed her down. Out of breath, Amelia ran through the doors of the theater. Her side ached painfully as she walked to her seat. A few older members looked disapprovingly at her. She simply ignored them and sat down to tune. So, she wasn't really late, but she needed to do her best.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, we have one hour to go over a few places for the opera. Then, we shall have rehearsal with the cast for two more hours." Amelia sat there and stared at him. Three hours of rehearsing? She looked around at the rest of the orchestra. They didn't seem to be surprised at all. It must be normal to practice that long. She inwardly groaned.

When Monsieur Reyer handed out the music, she brightened up a bit. It looked rather difficult, but that's what she loved: a challenge. The three long hours of rehearsal went well, though Amelia's left shoulder and arms were very tired.

Once she returned home – that is, in the bowels of the Opera House – she played her favorite section, the ballet, for Erik. Afterwards the two went exploring again, but found nothing quite as special as their cavernous home.


	4. Music and a Mask

**Music and a Mask**

Over the next few weeks, Amelia would practice in their grotto. Erik loved listening to her play. There was now a clock sitting on a small wooden table on smooth rock. They had also found a way to get a large cushioned chair in the room. He would sit on it and watch her walk around while playing. This evening he found himself jealous of her talent. Once she finished playing she sat down on the chair next to him.

"I want an instrument," Erik said longingly. Amelia handed him the violin.

"Go crazy," she sighed.

"No. Not a violin. Something else…"

She began naming all sorts of instruments. "..Piano…organ…"

"I like those. Big instruments that can put my stupid long fingers to work," he said. Smiling, she told him, "I just happen to know where a piano is." Amelia glanced at the clock on the table. "And, it's almost midnight, which means that you could play it without people noticing." He immediately sat up.

"Where?"

"Just follow me," she said mischievously.

They walked up the countless flights of stairs. When the two friends reached the main level of the Opera House, they saw that all was quiet and dark.

"There's a short cut to backstage this way," she whispered. They walked a little further until Amelia stopped in front of a scarlet curtain.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes!" he told her excitedly. She took his hand and walked past the curtain, onto the stage. I was empty and dark; neither could see the audience seating.

"Hold on," she whispered and went over to a gas lamp and lit it. Amelia then lit a few stage lights so that there was an ethereal glow.

Erik looked around. "This place is amazing," he whispered. Amelia nodded in silent agreement. They both felt as though they would break the eerie magic the theatre held if they spoke above a whisper. She placed her hand on his arm and pointed to the piano on the side of the stage.

Erik walked slowly towards the grand piano. His hands had itched so long to caress the ivory keys of a piano. And finally, for the first time in years, his long fingers began to play. The song was long and drawn out, sounding mournful, but very beautiful. Amelia's eyes closed, listening intently.

When he finished, she asked, "Erik, where did you learn to play like that?"

"My mother taught me how to read music and the notes on a piano. I trained myself from there." She sat next to him on the piano bench. "I'll bring my violin up here some other night. We can play together." He agreed, and then played more.

The next morning, Amelia went to rehearsal. It was an extra hour longer, because there was a performance that evening. Little did she know, however, was that somebody followed her. In that past week, Erik had figured out how to watch and follow Amelia without anybody noticing, including her. He watched her up in the rafters as she took her seat. Sitting there, Erik listened to the music flowing throughout the theater.

After a while, Erik walked around above the stage, exploring secret passageways, wondering why nobody had ever used them. He found so many different ways to move around and see unusual angles of the theatre. But the music drew him back to the spot where he had been sitting earlier. The orchestra was rehearsing the Ballet Act. Amelia always swayed and moved her body with that song. Erik smiled to himself as her head jerked gracefully to the right. Her long hair moved like a waterfall with her head.

He placed his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. There was something entrancing about watching and listening to the orchestra from up in the rafters. Erik felt so powerful up there. No one stared at him; no one cursed at him; no one threw anything at him. He felt is throat constrict and tears stinging his eyes. He swallowed and looked down at Amelia. She wouldn't let anyone do that to him here, he just knew it.

Erik stood and walked along the rafters, gazing at the orchestra as he went. Monsieur Reyer was currently working with the brass section and Amelia was facing him. When he saw her glance up in his direction, he quickly jumped onto the stagehand platform, out of sight. But as he did so, he hit a lever with his arm. The lever released the rope holding up a backdrop. The backdrop fell onto the stage with a large smash. Before he realized what he was doing Erik slid into a passageway in the shadows.

He grimaced when he heard distant screams. There was quite a ruckus and he couldn't help himself. Erik crouched down and looked out onto the stage. Luckily, no singer, dancer, or chorus member had been on stage at the time. But now many people surrounded the fallen backdrop, a few looking up and around for the culprit. His eyes searched for Amelia. She had risen from her seat, violin in hand. She was one of the few whose head was to the ceiling, eyes searching.

Erik had an odd feeling that she would be able to find him. He slowly slid back into the shadows as he heard a young dancer cry, "It was a ghost!"

"A phantom!" another squealed.

He almost laughed at them as he walked away. _Ignorant ballet rats,_ he thought to himself.

When the rehearsal was over, Amelia walked up the wrought-iron spiral staircase above the stage. She carefully walked along the stagehand platform, searching for something. It was darker than she had expected, and she had trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of her. Amelia stumbled over a large rope. For some reason, she felt her heart pounding as she stood up.

Amelia snapped her head around. She heard something, so she slowly walked in the direction in which she heard it. The unknown darkness was intimidating, but her curiosity pushed her forward. The floor creaked as she stepped slowly and cautiously.

Then, somebody touched her shoulder, making her jump about a foot high. Amelia turned around quickly to see who it was. Standing in front of her was a grungy looking stagehand in his late twenties. He appeared to have some sort of booze in his hand. He took a quick swig of his drink.

"Yeh shouldn't be up here, missy. It's not a playground," the man waved her off with a dismissive hand.

Rolling her eyes, Amelia walked down the spiral stairs back onto the stage. She then went back to her and Erik's home. After the agonizing stairs, she entered the grotto and let her body sink into the soft chair.

"Erik?" she called out. There was no answer. She frowned. Where could he be? Amelia stood and surveyed their home. So far they had a large cushioned chair, a small side table with a clock on it, a blanket, and her violin. She frowned again. This was not what she called 'homey.' Amelia made a mental note to go the market with Marie and buy more appliances.

As she stood gazing at their lack of hominess, she heard footsteps. Erik had returned from wherever he had gone to. He walked over to where Amelia was standing and positioned himself as she was, surveying. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What are we doing?" he asked innocently.

"I was looking. What were _you_ doing?"

"Looking," Erik replied; he really had been watching her earlier.

"Something odd happened at rehearsal today," she changed the subject, seating herself on the chair.

"Oh?" he asked feigning innocence.

"A backdrop mysteriously fell onto the stage." He didn't respond.

Amelia's face betrayed her; she knew. "You were there, though, so that's not a surprise to you, right?"

It was a good thing he had a sack over his head, because Erik knew his face gave him away as well. "How did you find out?" he asked quietly, grudgingly.

She smiled, quite pleased with herself. "I saw you." Her smile faded. "Well, I didn't really see you. For some reason, I just knew you were there. It was like I could sense you. And then when the backdrop fell… it just assured my suspicions."

Erik gazed at her. How could she have sensed he was there? What did she mean by 'it assured my suspicions'? He didn't do it on purpose.

"That was an accident," he stated quietly.

Her eyes softened. "I know," she replied. It was that simple. That was all she had to say, and he believed her. Erik sat next to her.

Amelia sighed and leaned back into the chair and rested her head on Erik's shoulder. "What am I going to do with you?" A strange feeling filled Erik's stomach once he felt her soft hair on his arm. Unsurely, Erik slid his hand around her shoulder. She let out a tired sigh and closed her eyes.

"Mia," he whispered. Amelia's head slowly lifted up to face him. She was about to speak, but both became speechless. Each pair of eyes held so much emotion, so much trust. Amelia reached under the sack and placed her hand on his left cheek. They gazed at each other intently. A thought made her pull away reluctantly.

"Erik, I need to get ready," she whispered.

* * *

Amelia put a black ribbon in her hair and studied herself in the mirror. "You look beautiful, but sadly, nobody will see you," Caitlin joked. "Thanks for letting me get ready here," Amelia said. "No problem," she replied. Caitlin was wearing a dress, the bodice was white and the skirt was black. "Well, let's go!" There was a buzz of excitement as the two entered the theater.

Amelia's heart pounded as the lights dimmed and the audience got quiet. Monsieur Reyer's arms lifted. She watched him closely. Her cue came and she felt her body move with the music. As she played her violin, she wished that she could watch the performance. The opera seemed to go by quickly.

Already it was time for the Ballet Act. If it was possible, the butterflies flew from her stomach to her fingers. Once the piece started, she relaxed and played her best. She could hear the ballerinas' feet hitting the stage floor every time they came down from a jump. Her mind slowly became consumed by the music. Amelia concentrated on the sheet music in front of her, and watched Monsieur Reyer with her peripheral vision.

The pain in her shoulder became numb when she heard the applause from the audience once the opera was over. Amelia had a sense of pride welling up in her stomach. She was a part of the Opera Populaire's orchestra. She couldn't wait to see Erik and ask him how everything else went.

After receiving many praises on her playing, Amelia packed her violin away into its case. She felt strangely exhausted. The performance was amazing, but it had drained her. She noticed that it was almost midnight. Erik must have been wondering where she was.

She walked as fast as her tired legs would allow. Carrying her violin case and music wasn't helping much, either. Once she reached the water, Amelia pulled off her petticoats and held up her dress. _We really do need a boat,_she thought to herself.

"Erik?" she called out. There was no answer, so she figured he was still upstairs, perhaps looking for her. He would come down here eventually. She tossed her petticoats off to one side and curled up into the comfortable chair.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

"Are you sure this looks okay?" Erik asked nervously.

"Yes, I'm positive," Marie replied. "And it's about time you stopped wearing that thing over your head anyways. This looks much better."

Erik turned and looked at himself in the mirror. Marie had gone out and bought him a mask, so he didn't have to wear the tattered sack over his head. The mask was the purest white and it covered only the deformed half of his face. Marie had also bought him new clothes. "How can I repay you, Marie?" he asked. She just shook her head kindly.

"Now, if we can just get your hair to lie down…" her hand was about to touch his head, but he backed away. "One thing at a time, I think," Erik said. Marie smiled, "Alright. Oh! You'd better go, it's midnight. Amelia will be wondering where you are."

Erik nodded and slipped out of the room.


	5. Trust

**Trust**

Erik stepped out of the water and onto the rock floor that was his home. He almost called out to Amelia, but saw her curled up in the soft chair. She was beautiful. Her dress was all black except for white buttons and a bow, both on the back. The black ribbon in her hair was slowly sliding out.

He walked over to the chair, and kneeled down in front of her, so their faces were inches apart. His eyes studied her face; she looked content. What should he do? Wake her up, and probably surprise her with his new look? Or wait till morning and still surprise her? He decided to wait till morning, she was probably exhausted.

The following morning, Amelia was the first to wake up. She looked around groggily, then found Erik lying on the ground near by, his back to her. He was wearing… a white shirt, and new black pants? And she could see his dark hair… She frowned in confusion and curiosity. She got up and walked slowly towards him.

"Erik?" she whispered softly. He rolled over. She gasped quietly at what she saw. He had a white mask on. It only covered the right side of his face, so she could see the left side. Amelia had forgotten how handsome he was, after all, it had been quite a while ago when she saw his face.

Erik's eyes slowly opened, but Amelia didn't notice because she was too busy exploring his features. "Mia!" he said, sitting upright. She backed up a bit. "What… happened?" she asked, puzzled.

For the first time in long time, Erik felt himself flush. "Marie went to the market and bought… this," he said, hands gesturing to his mask, then his clothes. Amelia's eyes looked at his mask for a while, and then down at his clothes.

"You don't think it's terrible, do you?" Erik asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"No, no. I – I like it," she told him, realizing how much she _did_ like it. "It'll just take me a while to get used to it," she added truthfully. A sweet smile graced her lips.

"You know what I think?" she asked innocently.

"What?" he said, a little unsure.

"If your hair would just lie down…"

He sighed, "That's what Marie said."

"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad. Just let me wash your hair and I'll leave you alone." Amelia smiled at him. Erik sighed in defeat and she giggled with excitement.

* * *

Erik had on his old trousers again, but also his mask. He had a reluctant look on his face. Amelia pointed at the water sternly. She wasn't going to back down. He stepped into the cool water and waited for instructions. "Get your hair nice and wet," she said. Erik hesitated; should he take off his mask, or get it wet? He turned around, not facing her, took off his mask, and dunked his head under the water.

Amelia looked down at her hands, almost sadly, when he went under the water. Didn't he trust her enough to show her his face? But she made sure that she didn't try to peek and respect his privacy. As soon as Erik came back up, he put his mask on and looked at her.

"This isn't going to work."

She sighed in agreement. If he wouldn't show her his face, this would be difficult. Then she got an idea. Amelia picked up a small towel.

"Wear this. I won't look," she said.

Erik took off his mask as she turned away and held the towel to the right side of his face. "Okay, now sit," she said, returning to the task. He did as he was told. She took some shampoo that she had used once and sat behind him. Amelia was about to put the soap in his hair, but she suddenly felt shy. He turned his head to the left to look at her.

She flushed, but lathered it into his hair. Amelia stood to make it easier for her to reach the front. All of his hair was covered in shampoo, and it looked rather funny. She smiled as she made some of his hair stick up.

"Are you done? Or am I interrupting something important?" Erik bantered.

"Okay, rinse," Amelia said, nearly laughing.

He dunked his head under the water and foam came to the surface. When he stood up out of the water, he saw Amelia looking the other direction holding out his mask to him. He dried his face and put the mask on. She took a different towel and dried his hair with it.

Erik sat in front of the chair, while Amelia sat in it. She slowly combed his hair back. "There, doesn't that feel better?"

"Sure," he said, not wanting to admit that it did.

Amelia sighed and sat back into the chair. "It's going to be so boring today; we don't have rehearsals for a few days since the last opera was performed."

"I can show you some really amazing passageways I found," Erik suggested as he looked back at her. She shrugged.

* * *

"Ouch."

Erik had led Amelia down a passageway that they had to crawl through. As Amelia was coming out of it, she bumped her head on the top.

"You okay?" Erik asked, taking her hand to help her up.

"Yes," she sighed.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment. Amelia looked around the space they were in. The ceiling was high and it looked as if it hadn't been used in over a decade. "You can see the kitchens from here," Erik offered, walking over to a corner.

Amelia followed him and looked through a crack in the wall. Sure enough, they could see cooks preparing food at the stoves. The heavenly scent of fresh baked bread lured them closer to the opening. "That smells so good," Erik whispered. They both inhaled the aroma once more.

Amelia looked over at Erik. "Do you want one?" He looked back at her. They both knew that it would be easy for Amelia to get food; but it may be a little harder for Erik. He nodded. "Want to make it fun?" She smiled mischievously. "Sure," he replied.

"Okay, you see that basket of bread?" They glanced through the crack to see a basket containing rolls. "We'll see if your passageways are quicker than the regular way. You use the passageways to get to the kitchen, and I'll use my own little short cuts. First one to the kitchen or basket gets the first bite. Deal?" Erik smirked, "Deal."

They shook hands for a moment, and then Amelia ran towards the exit of the room and crawled out. "Good luck finding your way out!" Erik called, moving towards another exit. Smiling, Amelia rolled her eyes at his comment and kept on crawling.

Eventually, she got to a main hallway. It took her a moment to realize where she was. She needed to go past a few more halls and down a few flights of stairs to get to the kitchen. Just to shorten the trip, Amelia cut through a practice room.

He could still smell the bread as he crawled through the passageway. _So if I go left, that will take me to the North Wing, but if I go right I'll be in the South Wing. _Erik turned right and exited the tunnel into a practice room.

Just as Erik entered the room, he saw Amelia departing through another door. "_Mia_," he moved his voice right in front of her. He saw her jump and look around. She turned around just as the door closed and saw Erik smirking.

Amelia scowled frivolously. She turned on her heel and walked swiftly down the hallway. The kitchen was only two flights of stairs away.

Erik thought quickly. There was no way he could beat her using a passageway now. It was a foot race. He would just have to keep on distracting her. Erik opened the door in time to see Amelia turn a corner. It was lucky that this hallway was scarcely used.

"_Amelia_," he threw his voice in her direction. He ran towards the end of the hallway, but made sure no one was coming before he turned. After he rounded the corner, Erik saw her going down the stairs. He hissed her name one last time, hoping to slow her down.

Amelia got chills when she heard his voice echoing off of the stone walls. In fact, nearly every time he said her name, her body responded some how. Her heart would speed up, she would shiver, or she would smile.

The sound of footsteps took Amelia from her thoughts back to the game. Then she realized how hungry she was, and how hungry Erik must be. She looked back to see that he was only a half a flight behind her. Amelia squealed in childish delight as she got onto the floor that the kitchen was on.

She sauntered into the kitchen slowly, basking in her lead. When she heard him jump onto the floor, Amelia hurried to get to the basket. Once Erik came into the kitchen, he knew he was defeated. Amelia was standing by the counter biting into a piece of bread.

She smiled at the look on his face. He smiled sarcastically back at her. Amelia tossed him a roll and the two went back to their home.

* * *

A few days later, Amelia was lying on the ground studying music that she was to perform in the next opera. She closed her eyes when she felt the tingle of Erik running his fingers through her hair. "What's that?" he whispered, continuing what he was doing. "Music," she sighed. "You want to go upstairs?" Amelia rolled over onto her back so she was looking up at him.

Erik's heart began to pound. She was so beautiful. Her eyes bore into his and he nodded. He stood up and held out his hand to help her up. She took it and stood. They didn't let go of each other's hands, though. When they reached the water, Amelia was about to take off her petticoats, but Erik lifted her.

"What are you doing?!" she asked, surprised. He didn't answer at first. He wasn't sure why he picked her up, and he was surprised that he actually could; Erik wasn't necessarily that strong.

"I will get us a boat," he told her after a few moments.

"Well… I could get used to this," she replied. Smiling, she placed her hands around his neck.

The two went up the many flights of stairs and wandered around the dark hallways. Amelia looked behind them to make sure nobody was around. She took Erik's hand and went onto the stage. Their hands stayed in one another as they walked towards the piano.

She let go of his hand after they sat on the piano bench. He began to play a section from the opera that she had performed. Amelia looked over at him when she recognized it.

"How did you learn that?" she asked, amazed. He pointed to his ear. "By listening, I guess. I heard you play it all the time." She smiled.

He played a little more while Amelia stayed silent. When he was finished, she hesitated, and then asked, "Erik, do you trust me?" He looked over at her, a little confused. "Of course I do." She fell silent, and looked at her hands in her lap.

"Amelia, why –"

"We've known each other so long, yet you are so afraid to show me something."

He sighed. There was silence for a moment, then he said, "You must promise me that you will not scream." She could see fear in his eyes. "I would never do that to you."

Erik's heart pounded painfully in his chest. Slowly, he closed his eyes. Then he took off the mask that covered his deformity. The full horror of his face was revealed to her, yet she didn't even blink. A small smile appeared at the corners of her lips.

Amelia had seen his face before. She didn't mind seeing it, but she wanted to know that Erik would _let_ her see it. His eyes were squeezed shut, afraid of her reaction. Amelia wet her dry lips and slowly leaned toward him. She gently pressed her lips to his marred flesh. Erik's eyes burst open after the unnatural feeling on his cheek.

Her lips curled upwards a bit from the look of shock on his face. "Told you I wouldn't scream," she said softly. His dark brown eyes looked all over her features, almost fearfully. He couldn't let himself believe that she had just kissed him.

She watched him, not letting herself look away. Erik stopped searching for answers and looked back into her eyes. Slowly, he leaned towards her. For the first time in both of their lives, they kissed each other on the lips.

As the pair pulled away from each other, neither said a word. Amelia just took Erik's mask from his hand, placed it on the piano, and waited for him to play. He looked over at her and smiled slightly, and then he played.


	6. Memories

**sorry this took so long, guys. I had a little case of writer's block. Enjoy! I know I did when I wrote this chapter. **

**

* * *

Memories**

Amelia's head appeared as she looked around a corner. A smile appeared on her lips when she saw Caitlin coming towards her.

"What is this all about?" Amelia asked her.

"Don't ask questions, I'm on a mission."

Caitlin turned her around, and marched her down the hallway. Amelia sighed after a while; there was no way she could get Caitlin to tell her where she was taking her. "I'll tell you this," she said a little while later, "you're going to love it!" Amelia whined and begged for her to give her more hints, but she wouldn't break.

It had been nearly a year since Amelia and Erik had…well, kissed and made it clear to every one they knew that they liked each other. They were both barely fifteen now. Only a few people knew about Erik. Marie did, of course. But you couldn't keep anything from Caitlin for very long, so she found out rather quickly. And Marie's man companion (or shall I say boyfriend?) also knew because, well, Marie told him.

"Okay, we're here!" Caitlin said happily.

"Where is 'here'?" Amelia asked.

"The kitchen, silly!" Then she sauntered off.

_The kitchen…_A hint of knowing appeared in Amelia's eyes. As she opened the door, she could smell fresh bread. Amelia's eyes closed as she inhaled the scent.

"I thought you would like that smell," came an all too familiar voice. She smiled, and opened her eyes slowly. "Keep them closed," he whispered softly. Amelia humored him, and closed them again. "It's been a year," he said. "I know, a year today," Amelia smiled. He took her hand and kissed it. She opened her eyes to look at him. Erik was so handsome; it wasn't the kind of handsome that made all girls fall over for him, but it was the way his features led up to his dark eyes.

They gazed into one another's eyes for a while. Erik placed his hand on her cheek, and she rested her head into his palm. He took a step closer, eliminating the space between them. Amelia looked up at him; he was a few inches taller than her. It was so natural for the two; neither of them really noticed that they had closed their eyes, until their lips touched. She put her hand on his bare cheek.

It had been a year, so it was okay, wasn't it? Erik had been planning this day, this moment, for a week now. He was waiting for just the right second…. there it was. Her lips parted, unknowingly. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he slid his tongue into her mouth. Once their tongues came into contact, he felt her hesitate, but she returned his fervor.

Her stomach flipped when she felt his tongue caress hers. She hesitated, slightly confused. '_Is he actually doing that?' _was the first thought that came to her mind. Not that she didn't want him to, she just didn't think that _he_ would. In the instant when she hesitated, she realized that she loved the feeling of his mouth.

After a while, the pair pulled away from each other, in need of breath. Erik moved his hand from her cheek to the small of her back, and held her close. Amelia rested her head on his chest and let her hand slowly fall from his cheek to his shoulder. She sighed softly. They started swaying, back and forth, like they were dancing. Erik's free hand took Amelia's that was on his chest. They kept on swaying for a while. But after a while, Amelia looked up at him and gently kissed him. The couple sat down in the deserted kitchen, Erik's arms around her.

"You know, Caitlin said, and I quote, you are going to love it!" Amelia said teasingly.

"You didn't like that?" Erik asked innocently. She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, there's more," he told her. "Okay," she replied, waiting for it. "Well, not _now_," Erik said, like it was obvious. Amelia sighed loudly, jokingly. "Fine, I'll just _wait_." He smiled proudly.

**

* * *

**

Erik pulled her by the hand up spiral stairs above the stage. "Come on!" he said, practically dragging her up them. Once they reached the top, Erik gently kissed her. Amelia looked up at him. "So is this the other part?" she asked sarcastically. Erik didn't even bother to respond, smiling. "Okay, what is it? Where is it?" she inquired, looking behind him.

Childish lightheartedness took over, and he said, "You'll have to catch me to find out!" Erik started running for another flight of stairs. "What --?" Amelia chased after him, dodging all sorts of ropes, backdrops, and props. She lost him and was out of breath. "Erik?" Amelia walked around. Where was she? She wasn't even looking where she was going before, just following Erik.

She took another step forward, and the bored gave out. A scream came from her lips as she fell through the hole. The only thing keeping her from falling onto the stage was a few ropes. One of the ropes, however, wound itself around her neck.

"Erik!" Amelia cried in a strained voice. She tried to hold herself up by that rope so she wouldn't be strangled. She heard footsteps above her, then, "Mia!" She glanced up and saw Erik looking down at her through the hole.

"Erik, cut the rope!" she cried.

"You'll fall! What if you get hurt?"

Amelia struggled to swallow. She could feel the rope digging into her neck, and gasped for a breath. There was another one around her back, also holding her up, but barely.

"It's okay, Erik. I'll be fine. Just cut the rope," she told him calmly, though in her mind she was anything but calm. Erik hesitated.

"No matter what happens, I want you to know…I love you," she said, barely above a whisper. (**A/N: as clichéd as it sounds, I thought it was kinda romantic. :-P)** Amelia saw something change in Erik's face. He looked determined.

Biting his lip, Erik grabbed his pocket knife, and sawed at the rope. He was whispering things to her, but Amelia could barely hear him; she was slowly losing consciousness… Then the rope snapped, and she fell to the stage. The sound of a thud echoed through the auditorium. After hitting the floor, she didn't move. Erik reluctantly looked down at her poor form.

"Mia?" he said softly. He ran down the spiral stairs, and actually skipped the last few and came to her side. "Amelia?" Erik gently shook her. His mind was racing with thoughts. _Is anything broken? Does she have a pulse? _He lifted her wrist and felt it, and let out a breath. Thank God, she had a pulse.

It seemed as though she had landed on her back, and then rolled slightly to her left side. Erik lifted her head and felt something. _Oh, God…_ He looked at his hand and saw a little bit of blood. "Mia," he whispered feebly. Tears stung his eyes. Erik pulled her close, and held her to his chest. He put his ear next to her lips and could hear a wheeze deep in her throat, keeping her from breathing properly. Thought swimming through his head, Erik turned her around and slapped her on the back.

Amelia let out an agonizingly long cough. Then he listened to her breaths again. They were louder and longer. The impact of the fall must have knocked the wind out of her. Erik touched her cheek. _What am I doing? She needs to go to a doctor, or someone that can take care of her… _And so Erik picked Amelia up and carried her out of the auditorium to the one person he knew he could trust: Marie Giry.

**

* * *

**  
_Amelia felt something cool on her forehead. She tried to open her eyes, but it hurt to do so. What had happened to her? Did she fall on her head trying to climb out of the window? Yes, that must have been it. When she was escaping from her mother… _

"Paul…?" her voice sounded different to her.

There was murmuring, but she couldn't make out any of it. She did hear her name once, though. Where was she? Whatever she was laying on didn't feel like her bed. The voices in the room slowly became clearer.

"Who is Paul?" one whispered.

"What happened to her?" asked another.

The voices were hushed by a young woman's. "Shhh, all of you. Amelia had a terrible fall…she needs peace and quiet." That voice was most definitely not her mother's. It couldn't be a doctor; maybe it was a nurse from the village close by.

"Mother…?" Amelia actually wanted to hear her mother's voice, just to know she was safe at home. When no one answered, she slowly opened her eyes. Everything was blurred and a terrible pain went from her head down her neck as she tried to sit up. Gentle hands kindly pushed her back down.

"Where am I?" Amelia whispered to the unknown person. There was silence for a moment, then the young woman's voice spoke again.

"You're at the Opera Populaire in Paris."

Amelia's eyes shot open. She struggled to look at her surroundings. It seemed as though she was in a dormitory; the woman that had spoken to her was sitting next to her on the bed. Her face and jade eyes were full of concern. The two girls' eyes locked for a moment, but Amelia saw something in a corner. She turned her head and saw a dark figure watching them. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and then her eyes slid out of focus again. Amelia shook her head and blinked a few times.

When she opened her eyes again, the door was closing. The figure left. When the door opened again, another girl came into the room. She had very dark hair, a pale complexion, and piercing blue eyes. She looked a little older than Amelia.

The two unfamiliar girls were conversing in a corner, and Amelia sighed. _What is going on? How in the world did I get in Paris, when I live in Nice? _Her head hurt terribly. She gingerly touched the back of her head, and felt a bandage. A groan came from her lips. She didn't even _want _to know how that ended up there.

"Caitlin, Erik said that he doesn't want Amelia to feel obliged to get into a relationship with him if she doesn't remember him. So don't say anything about him," Marie told her. "So what _do_ we tell her?" Caitlin asked. Marie gave her a look that said 'I have absolutely no idea'.

"Excuse me," Amelia said to the girls, "can you tell me how I got here?"

The dark haired girl looked like she was about to cry. "Oh God, she doesn't remember," she whispered to the other girl.

"Remember what?" Amelia asked, utterly confused.

"Well, what _do_ you remember?" Marie asked.

Amelia thought for a moment. "Well, I remember my mother slapping me…and I ran away in the middle of the night, and I fell asleep under a tent."

_That must have been right before she met Erik._ Marie sighed.

"Well, you see, Amelia," she looked over at Caitlin for help. Her eyes widened as she got an idea.

"You see, Amelia," Caitlin started, "the Opera was looking for a new violinist for the orchestra," she eyed Marie's curious face. "I think Monsieur Reyer, the head of the music department, was so desperate to get one that he sent messengers to other cities to find the best violinists. Somehow they must have found out that you're _really_ good, especially for your age, so they brought you here." Caitlin's bright blue eyes looked nervously between the two disbelieving eyes staring at her.

"So, how come I don't remember _any_ of this?" Amelia asked suspiciously.

Marie's stomach lurched. Erik said not to mention him to her, so she would have to make something up… What on Earth could she have done?

"Y-you fainted," Marie said suddenly. The two other girls looked over at her.

"Why?" Amelia asked.

"…Because…Well, it was right after a show and you were really tired, and I think you hit your head on something," Marie tried her best to sound convincing.

Amelia closed her eyes and groaned. Whilst the groaning continued, Caitlin managed to give a look to Marie. '_Fainted_?' she mouthed. She rolled her eyes, and then looked back down at her friend.

"Listen, Amelia. We'll help you recover, and then you can come back to the orchestra. It was so much fun with you there."

"But that's just the problem," Amelia said, opening her eyes. "The last time I can remember playing my violin was a few years ago. I barely even remember shifting higher than fifth position. And I get really confused with rhythms." Amelia put her hands over her face. Marie looked over at Caitlin, who had a devilish grin on her face.

"Will you excuse us?" Marie said politely.

Amelia nodded with her face still covered. The two older girls went out of the dormitory, into the hallway.

"What on _Earth_ are you smiling about? There's _nothing_ to be smiling about!" Marie said, exasperated.

"Oh, I believe there is," Caitlin said, with a mischievous look on her face.

* * *

**ohmygoodness. It took me a long time to figure out what their story was gong to be. But once I did, oh boy I loved it!**

**Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I couldn't resist!**  
**reviews are my favorite **


	7. Proposition

**Proposition**

"What, may I ask, is the reason why you are smiling?" Marie asked in a voice that showed that she didn't like it when someone knew something she didn't. Caitlin smiled that smile of hers.

"I'll tell you why," she said mischievously. "Amelia doesn't remember how to play the violin well, right?"

"Right…"

"So she'll need a teacher."

"Probably; what's your point?"

"Who would make a better teacher, than Erik?"

"Oh, God."

"Now, listen, Marie. If Erik would take lessons from someone in the orchestra, or perhaps even Monsieur Reyer, he could get good enough to teach Amelia. Then he could be a mysterious teacher and make her fall in love with him again. Oh, it would be so perfect!"

"_That's _your plan? That could take years!" Marie exclaimed.

"You can't rush true love, Marie, especially when someone has an injury," Caitlin told her thoughtfully.

* * *

Marie breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. _Just ask him, and see what he wants to do. It's not like the world will come to an end…_

Only, it felt that way. Erik and Amelia were the perfect couple, and Marie didn't think that Erik would be able to find another companion like her. She couldn't imagine one without the other. They always seemed to be together the past year.

She almost wished that she and her boyfriend, Peter, had a relationship like that; just based on smiling at each other, and holding hands. She sighed softly. She loved Peter, but their relationship was rather awkward. They never held hands. Their relationship seemed to be as proper as possible. That's how she wanted it, but she also wanted to have a childish urge to kiss him on the nose. But if she did that, Peter would just stare at her like she was crazy, and even if he didn't, she _would_ feel crazy.

All of this was going through her head as she walked down the many flights of stairs to what used to be Erik _and _Amelia's home. Now it was just Erik's. Her footsteps echoed as she descended the stairs. Finally they ended and she came to the water. Surprisingly, there was a gondola waiting for her. Marie raised her eyebrows and got into the boat. She rowed herself, with a little difficulty, to the shore.

As she neared the shore, Marie heard him playing the piano. She smiled, recognizing the song. It was the Moonlight Sonata. For some reason, it reminded her of him and Amelia together. Marie imagined them dancing to this song, and smiled distantly. The song was nearing the end of the first movement as she got out of the gondola. Erik must have heard her coming and stopped playing.

"How is she?" he asked once she stepped onto the cool stone floor.

Marie looked at him with pity. She could tell how depressed he was. He was sitting on the piano bench, looking down at something in his hands. It was a small velvet box; the box that held the present he had bought for Amelia. Marie felt her throat tighten.

"She had a concussion, you know that much. But she only remembers after she escaped to when she fell asleep under a tent." Erik's hands went from his lap to his face. Marie looked down at her shoes; she hated seeing him upset like this.

"That was before she met you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Erik sighed.

"W – Would you like to come up and eat with Caitlin and me?" she asked.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," he told her truthfully.

Marie nodded knowingly. She was about to leave, but then remembered why she went all the way down there in the first place.

"Okay, I know that Amelia doesn't remember you, but would you like to get her to know you again?"

Erik looked up at her tiredly, yet there was intrigue in his eyes. "Perhaps…"

"Amelia said that she doesn't remember how to play the violin as well as she did. Well, she remembers _how_, but she said she wasn't very good. So she'll need a teacher." Marie took a breath as Erik nodded. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening…"

* * *

_Amelia was thrown and locked into a room. She looked frantically around, trying to find a way out. But then she heard screams coming from the other side of the door. As she put her ear to it, Amelia heard the cracking of a whip. There were screams and cruel laughter. "Look at the Devil's Child!" a man shouted. The words 'Devil's Child' echoed through her mind. Devil's Child…Come and see the Devil's Child. He's the Living Corpse! "Only those who pay can see the Devil's Child…" _

* * *

Amelia sat up in her bed. There was cold sweat trickling down her forehead, and she was breathing hard. What a terrible nightmare! Though she never actually_saw _what was on the other side of the door, she knew whatever was, wasn't a pretty sight.

She looked around the dormitory. There were other girls sleeping in their beds; it must have been night now. Amelia sighed softly. She had been shaken by this dream. The things she heard _couldn't_ have been made up by her mind. She tried to go back to sleep, but the noises kept on haunting her. Sitting up again, Amelia made sure nobody was awake. Silently, she slipped out of her bed and left the dormitory. She wanted to see the Opera House. Well, technically, she had already seen it, but she didn't actually _remember_ seeing it.

Amelia closed the door quietly behind her, and looked down the hall. There were gas lamps dimly lighting the corridor, making an eerie glow. She walked in silence, looking at the ceiling and walls around her. Even though this was just the wing where the ballerinas, orchestra members, and chorus slept, it was still beautiful. Amelia couldn't wait to see what the rest of the Opera House looked like.

After a while, she reached the main foyer. Her blue-green eyes widened as she examined the gold statues and marble floor. This place was like heaven! Taking a breath, Amelia slowly walked up the grand staircase.

Once she reached the top, a smile graced her lips. The view of the entrance hall was breathtaking. Curiosity took over once more, and Amelia started exploring another hall, hoping that she wouldn't get lost. She passed two grand doors, most likely leading to a theater. She was going to just admire the work on the doors, but she heard something. It sounded like someone was playing a piano. Amelia looked from side to side making sure no one was near. Then she quietly opened one of the doors.

She immediately got distracted by the vast theater. Even with the little light provided, Amelia could make out the stunning gold details on the walls, and the beautiful crimson seats and curtains. Without realizing it, her head turned slowly towards the stage. She was still admiring the ceiling, when she heard a clashing chord. Amelia's eyes descended from the ceiling to the stage and found a young man sitting at the piano.

"Damn," he said, not angrily, but most definitely not happily. He seemed frustrated. Amelia stood in the back of the theater watching him. What was he_doing_? It was probably at least 2 in the morning, and he was playing the piano? She lifted an eye brow at her own hypocrisy. What would one think if they saw her gazing aimlessly at the ceiling? A loud sigh, nearly a groan, came from her lips; she immediately regretted it.

"Who's there?" the man said, standing from the piano bench.

Not knowing what else to do, Amelia let herself fall to the ground so he couldn't see her. A thud followed after she hit the floor. _What a foolish thing to do. _Not only did it draw more attention to her, it also hurt. Maybe when she hit her head, she lost some of her common sense, too. Well, she might as well just stay there on the ground like an idiot; perhaps he would walk past her. _Like _that_ will happen._

Amelia heard him walk off the stage, but he didn't come looking for her. The young man just walked out of the theater. She rolled onto her back and thought for a moment. Perhaps he felt the same way as she did, and didn't want anyone to see him. Sighing, Amelia stood up. Her head pounded and she saw spots for a moment. _I should go back to bed, _she thought. Taking one last glance at the theater, she tried to find her way back to the dormitory.

* * *

The next morning, Marie told Amelia to stay in bed until she got back from dance rehearsals. So, she sat in her bed and waited for something interesting to happen within two hours. Caitlin came in to see her after practicing with the orchestra.

"I guess Marie just wants you to recover this week," she told her.

"But, what will I do once I recover?"

"Well, until we can get you a violin teacher, you might just have to do whatever Marie says. Terrifying, I know." Amelia chuckled a little.

The two girls just talked until Marie got back. Once she did, she pulled Caitlin outside of the dormitory door.

"I talked to Erik yesterday evening," she whispered.

"Well? What did he say?"

"He agreed. I asked Monsieur Reyer about teaching him before I left rehearsals. It took a little persuasion, but he agreed, too. The down side to this is that it will be a while until Amelia gets a violin teacher."

"Can't you find a job for her?"

"I'll find one sometime this week while she's still recovering. It seems as though the tables have turned on them. Now Erik has something to do, and Amelia doesn't."

Marie and Caitlin went back into the dormitory and found Amelia lying down, looking up at the ceiling. She yawned and looked across the room at them. Raising her eyebrows quizzically, she asked, "Well?"

"It might be a while before you can have a violin teacher," Marie said.

"What about Monsieur Reyer?" Marie and Caitlin looked at each other.

"He's a little full on students at the moment," Caitlin said. Amelia made a frustrated noise and let her head fall back onto her pillow.

"While you're recuperating this week, I **will **find a job for you," Marie said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself, more than Amelia.

"Well, we should be off to lunch," Caitlin said.

"Can I come too? Please!"

Caitlin and Marie looked at each other. Amelia had been in bed all day today, and yesterday. She was probably bored out of her mind. But Marie immediately remembered that Erik was supposed to sit with them. She didn't know whether to be excited or nervous. Amelia could meet him and talk to him, but then he wouldn't be mysterious or new once he was her teacher.

"You get ready, I need to speak with Caitlin," Marie told her. Amelia grinned and slowly stepped out of her bed. The two older girls stepped outside of the dormitory door again. "What's wrong?"

"Erik is supposed to sit with us."

"Well, why can't Amelia meet him?"

"Wasn't it you who wanted everything to be a secret? Don't you want to keep him from her until their first lesson so he can be the mysterious teacher?" Marie asked, exasperated.

"Good point. But we can't just send him away…"

"You stay and walk with Amelia to the eating quarters, and I'll go now and talk with Erik. Stall for a few minutes if you must."

Marie walked swiftly down the corridor towards the eating quarters. Caitlin opened the door to the dormitory and waited for Amelia to finish getting ready. Once she was dressed, the two girls headed to the cafeteria. Since Amelia didn't know where it was, Caitlin decided to take a detour that made the trip about three minutes longer. Hopefully that would be long enough for Marie and Erik to work something out.

Marie came through the cafeteria doors and searched for Erik. She saw him sitting at the spot they usually sat. She walked swiftly over to him. He stood when he saw her, and he looked confused because Caitlin wasn't with her.

"What's wrong?"

"Amelia's coming. What do you want to do?"

Erik became silent. Even though he saw her the day before, it seemed like an eternity. He wanted to see her again. But he was afraid of how things would work out for them in the future. Erik longed to meet her once more, to show himself to her. He knew that it would be months before he could be her teacher, but he couldn't wait that long.

"I'll meet her."

Marie blinked. "What?"

"You can introduce us, and I'll leave. I just need to see her again," Erik's eyes dropped once he realized how pathetic he sounded.

Now she smiled. "Alright. You can sit with Peter over there," Marie pointed toward a further corner. "You'll be able to see her perfectly."

Erik nodded gratefully and the two sat down at the table.

A few moments later, the door opened again, and Caitlin and Amelia walked through them. Erik couldn't help staring at Amelia. She was wearing a simple day dress and her hair was down with a gentle curl on the bottom; the simplicity is what made her enchanting. He noticed her ocean-like eyes swam over the entire room, looking for Marie. He loved her eyes. Then, they slowly came in his direction. Amelia murmured something to Caitlin, and she muttered something back. Their eyes met for a moment, then hers averted to glance at his mask, then to look at Marie. Erik stood up once the girls were standing in front of their seat.

"Amelia, this is Erik Destler. He's a friend of Peter's."

"Erik, this is Amelia Simon, you know, the violinist I was telling you about?"

He played along and pretended to think for a moment, then nodded. Finally, Erik laid his eyes on her up close while she was conscious. He gently took her hand and kissed the top of it. A light blush danced on her cheeks. Obviously not very many young men did that to her back at home. Erik smiled slightly.

"Well, I shall go back to my seat. It was a pleasure to meet you, Amelia," Erik said kindly. He turned and walked towards Peter's seat and sat down with him. Amelia's neck stuck out a little, watching Erik turn a corner. Caitlin and Marie glanced at each other and smiled. Perhaps letting them meet _was_ a good idea.

"Shall we eat, then? That was what we came down here for," Caitlin said, still smiling.


	8. Lessons and Meetings

**Lessons and Meetings**

Rain tapped on the window, and Erik turned his head to look out of it. He was sitting at a table by himself in L'automne Café. It had been a little over a week since he was 'introduced' to Amelia, and he wanted to see her again. However, he knew he couldn't. It might spoil everything they had planned.

Erik took a sip of his now lukewarm tea. As he did, he noticed an older woman sitting at a table next to his gaping at him. She was on his right; a perfect view of his masked side. He chose to ignore her stare, like he had of many other people that day. This was his time to think about was to be done. In a couple of hours, Monsieur Reyer was to give him his first violin lesson. Erik hoped he would treat him like a normal person.

A rumble of thunder interrupted his thoughts. He glanced out of the window a second time. A few passersby walked swiftly from one side of the cobble stoned street to the other. The clouds looked gray and heavy as drops fell from them. Rain was consoling to him right now; the sound, the smell, and the feeling of it kept him calm.

The waitress came by and filled his cup with hot tea. He looked up and gave her quiet thanks. She smiled nervously and went along to other tables. His dark eyes were drawn back out of the window. How long would it be before he could teach Amelia? How long would it take for him to learn? A sigh escaped his lips and he drank his tea.

* * *

Marie had asked her to stay in one area of the Opera House, but she just _couldn't_. It was nearly impossible to sit still in such a magnificent place. Amelia couldn't get enough of the structure of the building and she kept on staring at the walls and ceiling. She smiled to herself as she walked down a hallway. She had been so bored sitting in her bed all day. Marie still hadn't found her a job to do until she got violin lessons. Nobody seemed to think that she would get them any time soon, so she hoped she could do _something_. 

Her head didn't really hurt at all any more. So why was Marie insisting on acting like her mother? Well, perhaps not _her_ mother, but a caring mother. Maybe this is what most girls felt like: overprotected. Amelia had never felt like that…ever. The feeling made her somewhat happier, knowing that people loved her.

By now, she had memorized the corridors and where they led. Amelia decided to go watch the dance rehearsal and possibly the orchestra, too. She turned down a hall, taking a short cut to the theater. In this route, she passed the central foyer and looked down the staircase at the main entrance. Someone was coming inside out of the rain. Amelia stopped and rested her elbows on the marble ledge, chin resting in her palms. She loved observing people; they were so interesting.

Her ocean colored eyes squinted at the figure walking in. It was a young man, she could tell that. He was dressed almost in all black: black pants, white shirt, black coat, and black cloak. The hood of his cloak was up, so she couldn't see his face. He seemed to be waiting for someone.

_Perhaps a friend…_

She heard footsteps coming from another direction on the lower level and turned her head to see who it was. Amelia looked this older man over. He had dark hair, slightly graying, and he looked rather thin. Maybe this man was the other's father…

The younger man held out his hand, "Thank you for your time, Monsieur Reyer." That name sounded familiar. Where had she heard it before?

"Not a problem, Monsieur Destler. Now, if you please, we must begin." The two gentlemen walked away, leaving Amelia baffled. She scratched her head.

_So that was Monsieur Reyer…Now I remember. _ Both Caitlin and Marie had talked about him, but she never saw him. _And Destler…Oh yes, Erik Destler._She smiled as she remembered meeting him. _But why would he be meeting Monsieur Reyer? _She sighed softly. Why was she making such a fuss about this? It wasn't any of her business.

Amelia leisurely made her way back to the theater, thoughts slowing her down. True, it wasn't any of her business, but she couldn't help wondering something. What did Erik Destler do at the Opera House? Anyone had to be a part of something if they ate in the cafeteria and met with the main music director. Perhaps he did something involving music. She didn't remember seeing him playing in the orchestra when she observed them practice before.

When Marie was doing a pirouette, she vaguely noticed Amelia entering the theater and sitting down. Well, at least she knew where she was; she didn't half of the time. Once the ballerinas got a break, she went out to talk to Amelia. Marie noticed that she seemed lost in thought.

"What have you been doing all afternoon?"

"You know me, just walking around. You looked great up on stage."

Marie smiled, "Thank you. Caitlin will be practicing with the entire orchestra soon."

"Where is Monsieur Reyer?"

"I– I think he had a student to give lessons to, or something like that."

"Do you know who he's teaching?"

Marie's pale face grew slightly pink. "Um, no, I don't. Oh, I have to go back to practice. See you this evening," she called, walking swiftly back to the stage.

Amelia sighed, bored. Then a thought popped into her mind. Was Monsieur Reyer giving Erik Destler music lessons?

* * *

Once Erik entered the Opera House, he waited for Monsieur Reyer to meet him. He made sure to leave his hood up to avoid stares; it was getting irritating. Whilst waiting in the foyer, he glanced up at the staircase and immediately looked away. _Amelia _was standing up there. Did she know it was him? His heart began to race, and he didn't know if he was happy or worried. All thoughts of her slowly faded once he saw Monsieur Reyer. Now, all he had to worry about was being treated justly. 

He tried the polite approach and held out his hand. "Thank you for your time, Monsieur Reyer." The older man looked at him with kind eyes and shook his hand. "Not a problem, Monsieur Destler. Now, if you please, we must begin." Erik nodded and glanced back up the stairs to see if Amelia was still there. She was; she didn't even seem to notice that he looked up there twice.

After following his new teacher to a large practice room, Erik found a violin waiting for him there. A minuscule smile appeared on his lips as he took off his cloak. He didn't even think of bringing a violin. Hopefully he would be able to keep this one; they were rather expensive.

Once Erik was ready to begin, Monsieur Reyer asked, "Now, before we start, I would like to know how much you know about music and violin."

He thought for a moment. "I can read notes and key signatures."

"That's a start." Perhaps Monsieur Reyer had dealt with an amateur before.

"And I know the strings, too. Amelia explained it to me once."

"Alright, then. I think I know where to begin."

He took out some sheet music and placed it on a stand. Erik lifted up the instrument after he motioned for him to do so. Slowly, he played a C Major scale. He sounded terrible compared to Amelia! _Well, what did you expect; to be better than her?_

"Not too bad for a first time," Monsieur Reyer said, smiling. Erik wasn't so sure if he was being truthful. Was he just being nice to him…?

"Monsieur Re–"

"Please, call me Charles."

"Charles, I'm not sure if this is how you treat all of your students, but–"

Charles Reyer held up his hand and sighed.

"I wanted to be as kind as possible…I know a little of what you've been through. And Amelia was such a great member…"

"That is very kind of you sir, but I would just like to be treated the same as any of your other students." Erik tried to sound as polite as possible.

"You are right," Charles said softly. "Well, now that that is out of the way, you could've done better."

Erik smiled slightly.

Monsieur Reyer assisted him with his posture. There were so many things he could do wrong! He needed to keep his back and wrist straight, fingers on their tips, and there was even a proper way to hold the bow. Once all of that was figured out, Charles helped the tone of the scale sound better and made sure Erik's fingers were in the right place for intonation. Just an hour later, the lesson was over.

"I will see you this Thursday for our next lesson," Monsieur Reyer said, putting music away. He was to have two one hour lessons a week. Erik nodded, and shook his hand one more time, then left.

He felt strangely happy as he walked down a corridor. This feeling was odd to have when Amelia wasn't around, and he somewhat liked it. But the thought of Amelia made his stride waver. It was still going to take a while before he could teach her. Erik decided that he was going to practice as long and hard as he could every day, to improve faster. All of these thoughts blocked out most sound, and it took him a moment to realize that someone had called his name.

"Erik Destler?" it repeated.

He froze when he realized that it was Amelia's voice. _Should I talk to her? Everything I do now could ruin what we might have later…_There was no escaping her now; she had turned around and walked over to him. He shifted towards her, to look a little inviting. She stopped in front of him and smiled. Oh, how he loved her smile! Her eyes flicked over his mask for a moment, then back into his eyes.

"I'm not sure if you remember me. I'm Amelia."

"Oh yes, I remember you." _How could I ever forget?_

After some silence, the thought in both of their minds was 'Um, now what?' Amelia averted her eyes to glance behind him, and Erik altered his weight between feet.

"Sorry if I seem to be nosy or rude, but what do you do here?"

"I– well…" _Part of the truth couldn't hurt._ "I am currently taking violin lessons. I would really like to become a teacher."

Amelia smiled again. "That is so neat! I'm in need of a violin teacher."

"You play?" Erik needed to pretend that he knew nothing of her.

"Yes. Well, I did when I was younger but," she sighed, "you don't want to hear it. It's a long story."

Erik decided not to pry; they were practically strangers to her. He simply nodded, and said, "Well, I should be going."

"Wait, um, wh– who are you taking from?" She touched his shoulder to get his attention.

"Monsieur Reyer, the head music director."

Something sparkled in her eyes. It almost seemed as though she had known. "Oh, well, I'm sure you'll get your money's worth. See you around." Amelia waved slightly and went back down the corridor in the direction she was originally going.

Erik was taken aback when she mentioned money. He didn't have any, and Monsieur Reyer hadn't mentioned it. Was Marie paying for it? A slight taste of guilt was washed away when he told himself: _it was she who came up with the plan, not me. It's not like I'm taking money from her or anything._

* * *

He didn't know how, but some way or another, he managed to talk with Marie alone. They were standing in a hallway that wasn't used as much during that time of day. She was still wearing her dancing uniform and he had been able to catch her before she went off to the dormitory. 

"Well, how did everything go today?" she asked.

"I learned quite a bit. I'm going to practice after dinner." She smiled and nodded. After looking at him for a moment, the smile faded. "What's wrong?"

He hesitated. "Well, I talked to Amelia."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to speak.

"Before you say anything, just know that there was no way I could've avoided talking to her. She saw me walking and said _my name_. She remembered me, _Erik Destler_."

Marie didn't say anything and looked at him. He was genuinely happy that she had talked to him. _He really must love her._

"We only talked for a few minutes. I told her that I was taking lessons and I wanted to become a teacher. She smiled and said that she played, too. When I mentioned that Monsieur Reyer was teaching me, she said 'I'm sure you'll get your money's worth.' And it made me think."

Marie bit her lip. "Listen, Erik, I'm paying for it, because you need it. Hell, we_all_ need it. Everyone's rooting for you," the last sentence sounded sad, but inspiring. A smile spread across his face that was bigger than any he had in a long time. Marie awkwardly pulled him into a hug and heard him whisper, "Thank you for everything."

Once they had let go of each other, they began to walk down the hall. He told her more about his lesson and she explained how he could get into the orchestra. As they were about to go separate ways, Erik to the dining hall, Marie to her dormitory, Caitlin stopped them both.

"Guess what!" she said in an excited, gossipy sounding voice.

"What?" the two asked in unison monotone.

"Guess who got Amelia a job?"

Both Erik and Marie's eyes widened.

"How did you–"

"What is it–?"

Caitlin smiled, loving how she knew things before them. Erik gave her a glare after she didn't say anything for a while, and she sighed.

"You two take the fun out of everything."


	9. Messages and Laments

**Messages and Laments**

Amelia was still stunned quite a while after she heard the news. Caitlin and Marie told her at supper what her new job was to be.

She was to be a messenger.

She never actually thought about that as being a job. But after a little reflecting on it, Amelia realized that the Opera House could really use not only one, but a few. There were important messages to be sent on opposite wings, certain notes to be acquired, and special gifts to be received. She thought that the job would be rather fun. The position of a messenger meant that she would have to go all over the Populaire, and she loved everything about it. Perhaps she would even be able to explore while on trips.

Marie explained what else she would do while they were eating.

"Every morning, you need to check in with the manager, Monsieur Francois, at nine o'clock sharp and see if he has any messages that need to be sent. Once you are done with his business, you go to Monsieur Reyer and do the same with him. Either of them could have at least ten memorandums or just one package, it will depend on the day."

It sounded a little demanding, but it was still a job. She was about to ask a question, but Marie continued.

"You will also check with the gentlemen in charge of the post, incase certain parcels need to be delivered personally to anyone. All of these people may send you somewhere else to get something for them or for other reasons, so you'll need to know your way around. Do you think you can handle it?"

Amelia smiled and said, "Of course! This is what I have been waiting for. All this time I've just wandered around the Opera House. I have it memorized like the palm of my hand."

Marie was glad that she was so eager to get started because she was to begin the next morning.

* * *

Erik stared at the rock ceiling, becoming more pensive by the moment. The soft sheets of his bed were inviting, but he didn't want to fall into the shadow of unconsciousness yet. Every time he looked at the ceiling, he could see Amelia somehow. He heard himself sigh. When Caitlin told him what Amelia's job was, he wasn't sure how to react. Could he get closer to her this way? 

He took off his mask and set it on the ground next to his bed. It was getting uncomfortable lately. The long, pale fingers of his right hand felt the contours of his deformed cheek. Erik tried to swallow, but a lump in his throat made it difficult. Why did this have to happen to _him_? He had been through enough; he didn't need this. But, then again, maybe he deserved it. That was why he had this face, wasn't it?

A sarcastic smirk appeared on his lips. Amelia probably would have slapped him if she heard him say that. The curvature of his lips slowly formed into a grave line. How was it that everything he thought led to her? His eyes began to sting. The salty tears burned his eyes because he was too proud to let them escape. Erik had done this almost every night, and he was tired of it.

Slowly, he sat up and raked his hand through his hair. His eyes swept the room, and they settled on a black case. Hopefully playing would help him calm down. Erik walked over to the violin case and opened it. The way the violin gleamed in the candle light made him even more troubled. _Why do you taunt me?_ He shut the case and sat back on his knees.

Erik looked at a candle. _I longed to teach the world, rise up and reach the world… No one would listen. When I first met her, it was almost as if she was crying out 'I hear you! I hear your fears, your torment, and your tears. Don't worry.' _The violin case begged him silently to open it again. His fingers meandered along the edges of the case, and after hesitating, opened it. This time, the violin was more comforting; it seemed to be asking him to play and become better so he would be able to teach.

His heavy eyelids closed once he put the bow on the strings. A poignant melody seeped from the instrument. One would be able to tell that the player was a beginner, but it was still beautiful. As he finished the song, words – no, _lyrics_ – rushed into his head and he searched frantically for paper.**  
**

* * *

Amelia took a breath and knocked on the manager's door. She heard some rustling and then the door opened. A man in his late twenties stood there, she assumed that it was Monsieur Francois. He held out his hand. 

"Oh, you must be the messenger. Excuse me for not being prepared. I wasn't sure if you had started yet."

She shook his hand and stepped into the office after he stood back for her to enter. Monsieur Francois glided over to his desk and searched through a few cabinets, grabbing a paper or two from each one. Amelia could hear him mumbling something about not being prepared. She smiled and said, "You don't have to rush, Monsieur. This is my first day."

He looked up from a drawer and gave her a small smile. The manager continued to look through his desk for another minute. Once he finally got everything together, he handed a small stack of papers to her.

"All of the notes have names of the ones who are to receive them. There are only about ten recipients."

Amelia nodded and was about to leave, but he spoke again.

"I don't want to sound rude, Mademoiselle, but I expected the position of a messenger to be filled by someone…older. How old are you, anyways?"

"I'm fifteen, Monsieur," Amelia replied.

"Well, you seem perfect for the job."

She smiled and thanked him, and then left to deliver the notes.

It took her a little while to find everyone who had a letter. All of the people were widely spread throughout the Opera House. Amelia smiled when she realized that there was only one more envelope to deliver. '_Giselle' _was all that was written on the front. She wasn't exactly sure who Giselle was or how she was supposed to get it to her. _Well, _she figured, _I'll just ask Monsieur Reyer when I go to him next._

After quite a few twists and turns, Amelia found Monsieur Reyer's office. She was about to knock, but she heard raised voices. Her hand stopped right in front of the door, and Amelia replaced it with her ear. She didn't want to intrude, now did she?

"What do you mean it's not here yet?" it was a young woman's voice with an accent.

"I'm sorry, Mademoiselle, but –"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Charles. Just notify me as soon as you get it."

Amelia's eyes widened when she realized that someone was coming towards the door. She ran as quickly and quietly as possible to the nearest corridor. She would just pretend that she was coming down the hall when they came out. Once she heard the door open, Amelia slowly made her way towards the office.

A young woman was walking heatedly down the corridor. She looked older than Amelia, but not by very much. Her ebony hair ended a little past her shoulders. The way she was dressed made her look upper class; her dress was a deep violet, and it was obvious that she was wearing her corset as tight as it would go. Amelia didn't let the young woman's clothing fool her. Any upper class woman wouldn't act desperate in front of someone at an opera house.

Amelia caught a glimpse of the woman's eyes. They were a dangerous-looking green and it seemed almost as if they could see right through you. She raised one perfect eyebrow at her, and then kept on walking. Monsieur Reyer was standing in the doorway. He sighed and made to go back inside.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," she said.

"Oh, bonjour, Amelia," Charles said wearily.

"I'm sure you must know that I am the messenger. I've come to collect any letters you would like to be sent. I also I have one question."

"Of course, come inside. I have a few pay checks and whatnot to be sent out."

Monsieur Reyer began to rummage through his desk. He seemed more prepared than Monsieur Francois had been. All of the envelopes were stacked together with names and room numbers on them. Amelia smiled, slightly relieved. This route probably wouldn't take as long as the previous one.

"Um, I have a note from Monsieur Francois, but all that's on it is a name and I'm not sure where to find her."

Charles looked up. "Well, what's the name? Perhaps I can help you."

Amelia handed him the envelope. "It says Giselle."

His eyes widened. She looked at him hopefully.

"Why don't I just deliver it personally? I know exactly who she is, and where to find her," he said, voice cracking a few times.

"I know you're trying to be helpful, Monsieur, but I was instructed not to let anyone else deliver the letters. It is, after all, my job."

After a moment or two, he nodded.

"You can find her in the dancers' quarters. Giselle is in the orchestra, but she insists on having a finer space. She shares a room with the dancer named Colette."

"Thank you, Monsieur."

"Oh, and Amelia?"

She turned around.

"Giselle is a little… catty today."

* * *

Erik sat up in his bed, eyes only partially open. He had stayed up later than planned the night before, writing his first violin piece with piano accompaniment. After yawning, Erik looked over at the music sprawled out on the floor and smiled. He wondered if he should show Monsieur Reyer at their lesson the following day. Perhaps he would just reveal the music; the lyrics were a little personal. 

Erik got dressed and picked up the music. Once he sat down at the piano, he realized that his mask was still off. It felt nice to be free and not have to hide. He ran his fingers through his hair. Ignoring the impulse to put his mask on, Erik set the music out so he could play the piano. Why couldn't Amelia have wanted to play the piano? It would have been much easier for him to teach it to her.

He sighed and began playing his new song. Erik didn't even bother singing. Mornings weren't so great for his voice. One of his fingers faltered on a key and he opened his eyes. _B flat, not B natural. _He corrected himself. At the end of the song, his stomach made a noise. _It must be at least ten o'clock, usually I wake at eight. _He really needed a clock down there.

As he neared the top of the stairs, Erik's heart jumped in realization. Amelia would probably be at breakfast too. At this new awareness, he skipped the last few steps and walked quickly through the corridors. After entering the dining hall, Erik's eyes swept the room. He saw Peter and Marie, but no Amelia. Slowly, he made is way towards them, realizing that she was most likely still delivering letters.

Once he reached the couple, Marie smiled sympathetically. Erik gave her a minute smile back. He was glad to have a friend like her. She knew what was on his mind, and why he felt the way he did. Sure, he didn't have a lot of friends in his lifetime, but Erik knew that she was the best friend a person could ask for.

He rested his chin in his palm and stared at his plate. This was going to be a long process.

"I'll have you know that I am a very fine messenger."

Erik's dark eyes widened. He looked up to see Amelia about to sit down next to Marie. He and Peter immediately stood, showing their manners. Amelia looked at the two of them and smiled slightly. Erik could tell that she still wasn't used to good manners yet. The two young men sat back down and listened to Amelia's story.

_After receiving the location of Giselle's room, Amelia went straight to her destination. Once she reached the door, she lightly knocked. There were quick footsteps and then the door opened. Both women on either side of the door stared at the other. This was the young woman Amelia had seen storming out of Monsieur Reyer's office._

_Giselle knew that this girl saw her act churlishly towards Charles earlier, but at the moment she didn't really care. _

"_Can I help you?" she asked, sounding impatient. _

"_I have a letter for Giselle."_

"_I am Giselle. And it's about time I got this letter. Why does a _young girl_ have this job, anyways? You know you should really – "_

_Amelia handed the envelope to her forcefully and left her steaming in the doorway._

"I don't know why she was so eager to get the letter. I mean, I'm sure it wasn't her salary. Monsieur Reyer would give that to her."

Marie agreed, and the four fell silent and began eating. After she ate quickly, Amelia stood and said that she'd better finish her route. When she was gone, Erik sighed softly and picked at his oatmeal.

"I don't know why you don't just tell her," Peter said.

"How would you tell Marie? 'Oh, we used to be lovers and I would like to get back together with you as soon as you get over yourself.'"

"He's got a point," Marie said.

The couple began discuss things that didn't really interest Erik. He didn't feel like listening anymore, so he stood said, "I'm going to go practice."

Marie looked up at him and then back down at his bowl. "You barely touched it. I don't care if you're going to go practice; I want you to eat at least five more bites."

Erik clenched his jaw slightly, and then gave her a crooked smile. "Yes, _mother_."

* * *

Once Erik had gotten out of sight of Marie's mothering eye, he decided to walk around the Opera House for a while. He had plenty of time to practice and he just needed to be alone for a while…not below people. 

The architecture of the building still amazed him today. Erik decided that one day he would get a pad and draw parts of the wonderful structure. He was thinking this as he rounded a corner and collided with someone walking swiftly. The two apologized at the same time and then both realized who the other was. It was Amelia who ran into him.

"Erik! I didn't think anyone came in this wing until late afternoon."

"I guess they usually don't. I was just walking."

"I used to walk all the time before I had this job."

The pair began walking together, Erik helping her finish her route. By the time they were done, it was noon. The two made their way to the dining hall and ate together with Marie and Peter. This meal was more comfortable than the previous one. Erik liked it this way.

* * *

**PLEASE review! I need to know what you all think. More reviews gets me motivated to update more often.**


	10. Dreams of You

**Dreams of You**

"Wonderful job. I think you can move on to another piece now."

It had been months since Erik began taking violin lessons. He was improving twice as fast as other students. Charles knew this was happening because his student wanted to become the teacher. But he still wasn't completely ready, no matter how much he wanted to give him the permission.

Monsieur Reyer pulled out some sheet music and set it on the stand. Erik studied the music for a while, taking in all of the elements. Grace notes, dynamics, accidentals, bowings. Once he was ready, he began to play. He stumbled only a few times over a difficult cadenza, and overall, Charles was impressed. He stopped his student as he neared the middle of the piece.

"Your sight reading is becoming more and more astounding. Great work today, Erik. I'll see you next lesson."

"Thank you, Monsieur."

* * *

"_Where are you?" she asked quietly, meekly. _

"_I'm right here," he said just as softly._

_Her ocean-like eyes looked past him and became sad. Slowly she stood up and walked by him, looking around. _

"_Mia, where are you going?"_

_Silence._

_They were outside, wearing simple clothing. It was probably like what Amelia would have worn before she came to the Opera Populaire. He followed her until she stopped at a creek. She sat down at the bank and pulled her dress up to her knees. The gentle waves of the water licked her toes. After a few moments, Erik sat next to her. She didn't acknowledge him, but her head tilted sideways and rested on his shoulder. He put his arm around her. _

_It seemed like old times. The way they sat felt so natural. Amelia moved her head from his shoulder and looked up at him. Erik looked down at her. They kissed so softly it felt like the first time all over again. _

_Erik laid down on his back and looked up at the sky. Gray clouds were slowly covering the endless blue atmosphere. A little while later, Amelia leisurely stood up and raised her arms upwards. Erik stared at her, confused._

"_What are you doing, Mia?"_

_She didn't answer him for a while. Then, "It's raining."_

_That's when he realized that he was completely wet. His thin shirt clung to his skin and his pants stuck to his legs. Lightning flashed and thunder followed. It was like a summer shower. Erik wasn't too fond of rain and made his way toward the shelter of a tree. The lightning became more and more wicked and he began to get worried about Amelia._

"_Mia, please get out of the rain," Erik called to her._

_She looked over at him and obliged, smiling. Amelia joined him under the tree and took his hand. Erik put his other hand on the back of her wet head. They kissed again. As they pulled away, Erik noticed that it had gotten considerably darker. He looked around as lightning flared in the dark sky._

_Amelia let go of his hand. Erik looked back down at her. She was staring at him as if she'd never seen him before. Her usually beautiful eyes looked at him with fear. It seemed like she thought that he was going to kill her. She began to back away and her breathing became ragged, terrified._

"_Mia –"_

_He was cut off by a shrill scream._

"_Monster!"_

"_What?" He began to walk towards her, but she screamed again. The look on her face… it scared him; it hurt him._

"_Amelia, what are you talking –" He stopped speaking when he felt rain drip down his cheek… his right cheek._

* * *

Erik sat up. His mask was on a small table next to his bed, where it usually stayed during the night. There was a tear on his right cheek. He sighed and lit a candle that was sitting on the table. For the past couple of weeks he'd been having dreams like this. He and Amelia were together somewhere, and she'd end up running away from him, scream and fear him, or be with another.

What did these dreams mean? They always started out peaceful and content, but the ending never worked out for him. Was this what his life was doomed to imitate? He certainly hoped not.

This nightmare had disturbed him. In his dreams, Amelia had never called him a monster, nor had she reacted so horribly to his face. Sleep became more and more scarce when dreams turned into nightmares, especially like this one. After his third bad dream, Erik began to journal them. So far, he'd written about six. That was far too many than any normal sleeper. But who could he talk to?

* * *

Her job was great. She had good pay, she enjoyed running around and doing errands, and sometimes Erik would help her. Amelia dropped her chin into her palm. What was it about him that made him so interesting? It wasn't just the mask. She bit her lip thoughtfully.

"Daydreaming again?"

Amelia looked up, snapping out of her reverie. Richard, the man in charge of mail, returned from the back room, a few parcels in his hands. While she had been waiting for him to return, she rested her elbows on the counter and placed her chin in her hand. After removing her elbows, Amelia said, "I suppose so."

Richard smiled lightheartedly and handed the parcels to her. He was in his mid-forties with slightly graying auburn hair. Richard was very kind to her and hadn't judged her when he first met her unlike many of the other workers around the Opera House. Amelia was about to deliver the packages when she heard a young man's voice call her name. She turned around to see Richard's son, Lucas, coming out of the back room. Lucas looked a lot like his father with auburn hair and hazel eyes. He was seventeen.

"I just wanted to catch you before you left," he said, eyes glancing away when he realized how abject he sounded. Richard rolled his eyes, smiling.

Amelia smiled at him and said, "Well, you did." They spoke for a little, but Amelia had to finish her job and left. She smiled to herself once she was sure they couldn't see her.

As Amelia walked down a corridor, she thought about her situation. _Every day I wonder if I'll get to start violin lessons. And with every day I become more and more discouraged._ It was her passion to play the violin. She loved it and wished to excel. But she couldn't if she didn't have a teacher. Amelia loved her job, but she didn't want to do this forever. Every once and a while, she'd get her violin out and play a few simple solos that she had learned previously. Amelia even went to operas that the Populaire performed and took notes on the orchestra.

She stopped at a large oak door. It was the stage set manager's office. Amelia looked down at her last parcel. _Caroline Dubois _was written on the top. After knocking on the door, it was opened by a woman in her mid-thirties. She had light blonde hair that was tied up in a loose bun, dull blue eyes and wrinkles that had barely began to crease her light face.

"May I help you?" she asked softly.

"I have a package for Caroline Dubois," Amelia said, holding it up. The woman's eyes glanced at the small box and then looked back up to Amelia.

"That is me."

After allotting the last parcel, Amelia made her way towards the dining hall for lunch. She sat down by Caitlin and ate, conversing now and then. Caitlin watched Amelia's eyes travel from her to the main entrance and saw them light up, just a little. She turned around to see what had made her friend's eyes illuminate. A small smile appeared on her lips when she saw Erik and Peter walking in. _This,_ she thought, _is what I like to see. _Erik sat across from Amelia, and Peter next to him.

"Where's Marie?" Peter asked.

"Oh, dance rehearsal went over today. I think that they needed to work on a certain section. Madame Moreau and Monsieur Reyer only needed about half of the orchestra to practice with. I was not part of that half." Caitlin actually sounded rather relieved that she didn't have to stay.

"How have your lessons been going, Erik?" Amelia asked, after a moment or so of silence. He looked at her for a moment. Her freckles blended in more with her skin now, because she wasn't outside near as much as she used to. Her hair had also gotten darker. He could remember when he first saw her. She had light, sandy blonde hair then. Now it was a light brown. Amelia's eyes were the same, nonetheless. They moved like the sea, changing slightly in the light. He loved that.

"Very well, actually. Monsieur Reyer says that I'm playing at a three year student's level."

"That's amazing," Amelia said softly. She smiled slightly and began eating again. Caitlin and Peter exchanged glances.

* * *

_She was sitting on the floor, her back against the door. Amelia pulled her knees to her chest. Her lip was trembling, and tears began to fall down her cheeks. Something terrible just happened, she knew, but she just couldn't remember. After trying to make her breath steady, Amelia stood up. It was then she realized that she was wearing only a slip._

"_There you are," a voice murmured lustfully._

_Her eyes widened as her head whipped around. There was a dark-skinned man sitting in a corner. The man slowly got up and began walking towards her. Amelia didn't move for a few moments, frozen. Then she ran over to the door she had been leaning against and tried to open it…locked. _

_Once she turned around, the man was standing in front of her. Amelia stepped backwards, but her back hit the door. The gypsy's hands ran down her bare arms and she shuddered. He kissed her cheek and caressed the exposed part of her chest. Amelia turned her head away and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was sitting in a cage. There was someone sitting across from her, but she couldn't see them. _

"_Mia…" someone whispered. The sound made her flesh rise in goose pimples. She recognized that voice from somewhere…_

_Somewhere._

* * *

It was incredibly early, perhaps about four in the morning. But Amelia couldn't fall back asleep. The dream that her mind had conjured was eating at her. The first part had left her feeling scared and vulnerable, but the latter made her feel like she was home. It didn't make any sense. She had been in a cage with someone unknown, yet she felt safe. Amelia quietly got out of her bed and pulled out a dress from the chest at the foot of her bed. She got dressed in the darkness.

After running her fingers through her hair, Amelia slipped out of the dormitory into the dim corridor. She walked until she came to a set of double doors. Remembering that this was the theater she first saw after falling, she went inside. Amelia almost expected to see someone playing the piano, but no one was there. She thought herself to be foolish for feeling disappointed.

Erik decided to get up because he had another dream. This one, however, was different from the rest. He couldn't shake the images that his mind had fabricated. After this dream, Erik couldn't fall back asleep. He got dressed and picked up his violin case, along with his new solo music. He chose to go up to one of the practice rooms and play until he forgot everything. He sighed; that would never happen.

Still, Erik trudged up the numerous stairs and weaved around the dim corridors until he found a practice room. There he unpacked his violin with shaking hands. After taking a deep breath, Erik began playing. His fingers, still a little stiff from sleeping, slowly began to warm up and the song sounded better than it had before.

Amelia had been sitting in the theater for a while. She felt somewhat exposed after having her dream. Her fingernails caressed the soft crimson velvet of the chair arm. A light echoing sound broke the comfortable silence she was sitting in. It sounded like… a violin. _Who else would be up at this hour? _

Amelia hesitated for a moment, then stood up and sought out the sound. She found herself in the hallway full of practice rooms. The corridor was lit by only a few gas lamps, so the light from the used room seeped out from the window and under the door. She closed her eyes and listened to the music for a moment. It was romantic; she liked it. Amelia took a step closer to the door and peeked through the window.

She could only see the left side of the man's head. He had dark hair, almost black, and he was wearing a plain white shirt. She noticed that his black jacket was lying across a chair. Her eyes watched his body as he moved it with the music. Then she saw a glimpse of the mask. _Erik?_ Amelia looked closer and realized that it _was_ him. Her head tilted to the side as she watched him. _I wonder why he is practicing now? _But she didn't question it further and just observed.

Erik only missed a few notes and he had played the entire piece with his eyes closed, she noticed. Amelia stifled a yawn then looked around. She must have been watching him play for nearly an hour. It was amazing that she could study someone for so long without getting bored.

He sat down on the chair on which his coat was draped over. Erik's head slowly dropped into his palms and he sighed deeply. Amelia's brow furrowed in confusion. Why did he seem so upset, so bothered? She suddenly had an urge to comfort him, but inwardly laughed at herself for feeling that way. After a few moments, Erik stood and began packing up his violin. Amelia didn't need any other signals: that was her cue to leave. As quietly as possible, she made her way towards the dormitory.

Amelia didn't make it very far down the corridor when she heard the door open. She turned the corner just as the door closed. _Maybe he didn't see me. It'd be embarrassing if he knew that I had been watching him… _She kept on walking, rather quickly, towards the dormitory, hoping that she'd be able to get back before anyone noticed that she was gone.

* * *

Hoping doesn't always work.

"Where were you this morning?" Caitlin asked at breakfast. She, Amelia, Erik, and Peter were sitting in their usual seats. Marie was at an extended rehearsal due to the date of the performance, which was in a few days. Both Erik and Amelia looked up from their food. When he realized that Caitlin wasn't speaking to him, he tried not to look so guilty.

"I took a walk because I couldn't fall back asleep," Amelia said simply.

Erik swallowed as he felt his heartbeat quicken. He looked up at Amelia every once and a while, thinking about his dream. Everything came back to him every time he looked at her. Luckily, she didn't notice his constant staring. After a little, Erik stood and excused himself, asking Peter to come with. Amelia and Caitlin said goodbye to them and continued to eat their breakfast.

As the two young men stepped into the hallway, Peter looked at Erik, a confused look on his face. They never really talked to each other much, and he was surprised when Erik asked if he could speak with him.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked unsurely.

"I need to tell you something about Amelia," Erik said. "But we need to go somewhere private. I can't say it in public."

They walked quickly down a few corridors and once he was sure there was no one around, Erik began to tell Peter about his dream.

In his dream, he and Amelia had kissed…a lot. He knew that something had happened, but he never actually saw or heard it. He just knew. But what happened after is what stuck in his mind most…

_They were both lying on their sides, facing each other. He gently kissed her on the lips and she rested her hand on his cheek. Her fingers made random patterns along his face. Soon, he realized, she fell asleep with her hand on his right cheek. Then he saw himself. He had a perfect face. _Perfect

"It was perfect. My face was normal. I wasn't wearing a mask, and I didn't need it…" Erik's head slowly began to hang, hands embracing his face.

Peter knew that his face was not normal, but he'd never seen it. He didn't really want to see it, either. But he understood why this was so important to Erik. What was he to say?

"Erik, I don't know what to tell you. Have you had dreams like this before?"

He shook his head. "Not like this. In all of the dreams I've had about Amelia, she's always ended up shunning me…"

"You'll get her back," Peter said surely.

Erik looked up at him. "What?"

"You'll get her back," he repeated. "You love her too much to ever let her go. I admire you for that, Erik." Peter smiled. He and Erik get along just fine.

After a few moments, Erik stood and said, "Oh, no."

"What?"

"I'm going to be late for violin. Thanks for listening."

"No problem."

Erik had left his violin in the practice room that he had been playing in this morning. He walked swiftly down the corridor and grabbed his case. Once he entered the larger practice room that he had lessons in, he saw his teacher.

"Sorry I'm late, Monsieur Reyer," he said.

"That's quite alright, Erik. Besides, I have great news," Charles said, almost excitedly.

"What is it?"

Monsieur Reyer took a deep breath. "I've decided that you are ready to become a teacher."

* * *

**Review like you've never reviewed before!**


	11. Someone Else?

**Someone Else?**

Amelia took a deep breath. Her fingers ran along the edge of her violin case. Slowly, she unlatched the clasps and opened it. There her violin sat, lonely and needing. She touched the soft velvet lining and removed her violin and bow. Amelia sat down on a spare chair next to the piano, waiting.

So, Erik Destler was going to be her violin teacher. She was elated to begin lessons, but she wasn't sure about her tutor. Was he educated enough on the subject? She happened to know that he hadn't been taking lessons for very long. But who could tell how this would turn out? Amelia had decided to give it a try; what did she have to loose?

Erik walked into the practice room, and Amelia stood up quickly. He was carrying his own violin case and a small stack of music. She smiled slightly and moved so he could get to the piano. Would he talk and treat her like he usually did? Of course, he would have to talk a lot more, but would his attitude be the same towards her?

"Bonjour, Amelia."

"Bonjour, Monsieur Destler."

As he sat down at the piano bench, her teacher said, "You may call me Erik, if you like."

_Yes, _she thought, _I think he will be the same. _

Time passed; Erik taught, Amelia learned. She never imagined that he would be such a detailed instructor. Erik not only explained how to do something, but he showed her how and told her why she should do it that way as well. Amelia felt as though she had learned so much in such little time. But it had been an hour and a half. He excused her and apologized for not paying attention to the time. The strange thing was, Amelia didn't mind. She wanted to keep playing and learning with him. He was a remarkable teacher.

When she returned to her room with her violin, Caitlin sauntered over. Amelia looked over at her friend and smiled eagerly.

Feigning indifference, Caitlin asked, "How did it go?"

"It was wonderful! I never thought I could learn so much! My vibrato is already improving, now that I know how to do it the proper way, and shifting has become so much simpler!"

Caitlin hid her self-satisfied smile.

* * *

"She's…amazing. She's so perfect." 

Marie smiled as Erik gazed fondly at nothing as they walked. He had enlightened her about how the lesson went. From what she could tell, Erik was probably nervous throughout the entire session, but all went well.

They turned a corner on their way to the dining hall and Marie saw Peter. She looked at Erik for a moment, making sure it was alright to leave him. He gave Peter a nod. Marie smiled at Erik and then went over to Peter. He noticed that they took hands as they walked into the refectory. Peter let go of her hand and his arm went around her waist.

The dining hall was more crowded than usual. There had been a matinee for a new opera today. Erik's eyes swept the room and he found no trace of Amelia. He stood in the doorway, not wanting to enter. Large crowds frequently made him feel claustrophobic. Turning around, he decided to go to his favorite café.

When Erik entered L'Automne Café, he felt relaxed. He usually came here when he needed to think. After sitting down at the table which he always sat at, Erik sighed. There weren't many people there, and their combined voices sounded like a dull hum. He ordered hot orange spice tea and a sandwich. As he took a drink of the hot liquid, Erik wondered where Amelia was eating. His dark eyes looked out of the window and at the people scurrying around on the cobblestone street. _Do they not realize that they could be missing something great?_ he thought glumly.

A rather shrill laugh brought him from his melancholy thoughts. Erik looked across the large room and saw a young woman giggling obnoxiously with a suitor. She was very pretty and appeared to be of high class. However, no upper class woman would draw attention to herself in such a low status café.

"That's Giselle."

Erik's head whipped in front of him to see Caitlin sitting across the table.

"She is the best and the most rude flutist I have ever known." He gave her a strange look.

"What are you doing here?"

"I saw you leave, and I remembered that you don't like crowds…"

"..And?"

"But you do like Amelia," she whispered.

Erik was about to say something, but he saw someone coming out of the corner of his eye. He looked up to find Amelia, a beautiful Amelia. His heart began to race, and he stood up as she sat down.

Giselle laughed loudly again. The three at the table, and quite a few others in the café as well, looked over at the couple. They began kissing without any cares for who was staring at them. Erik looked back across his table and saw Amelia roll her eyes. He smiled. She looked at him and smiled back.

"Can you get any more obnoxious?" Amelia half whispered.

Erik shrugged and continued eating. The two girls ordered some food and ate with him. He wondered if Caitlin had dragged Amelia into this, or if she had willingly come. He hoped it was the latter. Caitlin glanced at the couple again.

"Come on, Caitlin. Don't give them what they want," Erik said when he noticed her staring.

"No…I recognize that man she's with. Where have I seen him before?"

The other two studied Giselle's suitor closely. Erik couldn't even say that he might identify this man to begin with.

"I know who that is!" Amelia whispered, rather excitedly. "That's the manager, Monsieur Francois!"

* * *

Amelia felt strange. 

The Giselle-Francois incident happened about a month ago. She found out that Giselle had secretly been seeing Francois to try to get more money in her paycheck. Francois obviously obliged. Giselle was with him for a while, but once she got what she wanted, she left him for an older cellist in the orchestra. And that's who she was with now.

Giselle was twenty-two, from Greece, and traveled most of Europe. She played the flute most of her life and was a member of several Opera's orchestras. The Opera Populaire must have appealed to her most because she stayed there the longest. Everyone in the Opera's orchestra knew how Giselle worked. She would be with a man for a month, or two tops, and then once she was satisfied, she moved on to her next prey. She didn't get fired because Monsieur Francois operated in almost the same way. He was rather rich, and of course the chorus girls always threw themselves at him. Giselle didn't mind, and Francois just seemed to be more interested in her youth. So they gave each what the other wanted and went on their own ways.

Amelia felt strange because she knew this wasn't how love was supposed to be used. But this wasn't even love, it was…lust. She was disgusted by it. She just hoped that she would never get into that kind of 'love'.

Her thoughts had interrupted her practice. Amelia shook her head and looked back at her scale music. D Major. She worked on her vibrato as she slowly moved up the scale. _That note was too sharp…_ A few thoughts went through her head as her fingers got closer to the bridge. Amelia squinted when the note pitches weren't correct, and then fixed them. She bit her lip angrily. She needed help.

After packing up her violin, Amelia left the practice room and searched for Erik. He was usually watching all types of rehearsals. She looked in a few theatres, checking if there was anyone sitting in the audience. She found him in the third auditorium.

"Erik, do you think you have time to help me with my scales?" Amelia whispered to him as she kneeled next to his seat.

Erik stood up. "Of course. I always have time to assist you." Amelia smiled at him and they walked together back to the practice room.

She unpacked and put the scale music on a stand. The first octave was beautiful. Her vibrato was magnificent and the tone quality was perfect. As the scale ascended, however, Amelia neglected vibrato and her fingers tripped over each other. Erik stopped her once she reached the top note.

"Keep your fingers on their tips. Make sure you move your thumb with the rest of your hand when you shift; that is a common mistake. Rock your elbow further when you go higher and don't forget about vibrato."

Amelia blinked as she processed everything her teacher had just said. She found it amazing that he knew exactly what she was doing wrong. Erik cued her and played the scale on the piano with her. Amelia applied all of his tips into her technique and found that her playing had drastically improved. Once she was done she grinned at Erik.

"You are amazing!"

Erik smiled his first real smile in a long time.

_No, you are._

* * *

Later that week, Amelia woke up prepared for her job. She went to the mailroom and found Richard with a rather large pile of mail on the counter in front of him. He put one last package on the pile and looked around it at her. Amelia raised her eyebrows.

"I guess this week is mail week," Richard said, shrugging.

He handed her a canvas bag to put the mail in. This week was the first time she had ever needed to carry everything in a bag. Richard gave her a look when they heard Lucas's voice from the back. Amelia smiled slightly. Lucas came through the doorway of the back room.

"Would you like some help?" Lucas asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Sure. This bag is kind of heavy." Amelia smiled at him. This seventeen-year-old was almost desperate to just be alone with her.

Lucas smiled and took a few parcels out of the bag and carried them. The first stop was, as always, Monsieur Francois. He had made himself a little mailbox outside of his office when he and Giselle were together, that way Amelia wouldn't disturb him (For, ahem, obvious reasons). And after they stopped seeing each other, it stayed where it was, so, the pair put Francois's letters in his makeshift mailbox.

Next was Monsieur Reyer. Amelia always liked going to his office. Charles was a very kind man and he almost always talked with her about joining the orchestra when she was ready. Those conversations always lifted her spirits. Today, they really didn't have time to chat because of all the mail to deliver.

Lucas and Amelia caught up on the Giselle gossip of the week while delivering paychecks and letters to the orchestra members. Apparently, Giselle and the cellist, Maurice, had gone out and made a public display of their affection for each other. No one was surprised; it was typical Giselle.

The final stop was Caroline Dubois. After the door opened, the small woman thanked Amelia for relaying her mail. Then she looked at Lucas.

"And I will see you later this afternoon."

Lucas nodded, smiling. Once Madame Dubois closed the door, Amelia looked at her friend curiously.

"I help make the sets. Right now we're painting a landscape scene. I also help situate the set pieces on stage. That's what I want to do. I want to be the stage set manager once Madame Dubois retires."

"I didn't know you painted."

"Not very many people do." Lucas shrugged humbly.

Amelia smiled at his modesty.

The next few days Lucas assisted Amelia in delivering the mail. She noticed that he liked to watch her as they walked. Suddenly, she felt bad. She was giving him mixed signals. It must appear to him that she wanted him along because she liked him. But that wasn't the case. She enjoyed his company as a friend, nothing more.

They finished their route and she was about to go to violin lessons. Amelia said goodbye and was turning to leave, but Lucas took her hand. He gently pulled her to him. His eyes looked into either of hers. He was going to kiss her. She couldn't do this to him! As Lucas leaned in, Amelia pulled away.

"I – I'm sorry, Lucas. I just like you as a friend. I'm sorry."

Lucas looked rather hurt, but he understood. "Is there someone else?"

Amelia immediately thought of Erik. _What?_ "I'm not sure."

* * *

After dinner two weeks later, Erik had asked Amelia to listen to him play a few pieces from the upcoming opera. She'd happily obliged.

Now as he played the melody of the passionate love song, he wished that he could write something as epic as this. His eyes slid closed as his fingers ascended the string, seducing a crescendo from the instrument. Erik thought of Amelia every time he practiced this song. Forgetting that she was watching him across the room, he let his thoughts wander to her. The way her hair curled slightly at the ends; the way her eyes changed colors slightly as she moved.

When Erik finished, his eyes were still closed. Amelia erupted in applause. He looked up at her, rather surprised. She smiled at him.

"That was absolutely perfect. Beautiful!"

He smiled back. "Did you think there was anything I needed to work on? Anything that I could improve?"

Amelia thought for a moment. "Perhaps your tempo. But that was all that I noticed… mind you, it was hardly noticeable."

"Would you like to try it?" Erik asked.

Amelia's eyes widened. "Do you think I can play it?"

"..Do _you_?"

She used his violin because she hadn't brought hers along. Amelia relished in the warmth of the chin rest. She opened her eyes, put the bow on the E string, and stared at the music. It was high, very high. Moving her fingers into a higher position, Amelia started the easiest part of the melody. Erik murmured a few notes or fingerings throughout the chorus whilst playing the piano with her.

A few notes were a bit unsure, but that was expected during sight-reading. Her vibrato was surprisingly strong. He loved the fact that she was doing it the way he had asked her to. Posture, a bit sluggish, but he knew she was concentrating on the feel of the music. The upper half of Amelia's body swayed a little with her bow direction. Erik smiled slightly. Knowing that she was into the music that much gave him a sense of accomplishment: for himself and for her.

"That was great for the first time. I'm impressed."

"I do have a wonderful teacher," Amelia replied looking at him with a hint of something Erik couldn't quite place in her eyes.

After Amelia left, Erik felt like writing. When he had studied her, lyrics scuttled throughout his mind. Music accompaniment followed the lyrics and had fit perfectly in his head. Hopefully it would come out just as smoothly onto parchment.

Erik rushed down to his home, carrying his violin. Once he reached the bottom level, he was rather surprised to barely be out of breath. Perhaps these stairs were keeping him in shape. Standing on the 'threshold', Erik surveyed his home.

He had found – or made, rather – a way to get there without going into the water. There was now a doorway in the 'music room'. The old piano was retired from the Opera and Erik had gladly taken it. There were sheets of music, finished and uncompleted, all over the piano. His music stand held the current solo piece he was practicing. Erik set down his violin case next to the stand. His room was a small bed, more sheets of music, and a small clock that Marie had salvaged for him. It was currently eight o'clock.

He walked to his piano and sat on the bench with paper and writing utensils. The grand staff was already written out for him. Erik silently thanked Monsieur Reyer. He wrote a few words and phrases on a separate sheet of paper – lyrics for later. _I feel myself surrender, _was a phrase that stuck in his head the most. The orchestral music flowed beautifully as his mind invented this song.

_Dramatic drums at the beginning. Quiet singing confessing innermost secrets… about love? It sounded like a love song to him. Orchestra softly enters. It must be a strong male singer; wide vocal range._

Erik scribbled these thoughts down. Then he moved to the staff. His mind gave him the notes, the piano perfected them. Different orchestral parts intertwined to make chords and emotional harmonies. Erik felt his hands shaking as he wrote the orchestra solo. Everything was so perfect! All of the parts combined flawlessly, and he could imagine the male voice completing the song.

Alright, so he only had the beginning down, but it included all strings and drums. That had to be an accomplishment in its own. Erik imagined this song flowing charmingly in an opera. He wanted the world to hear it and its perfection… once he finished it, of course. But how could he get the world to hear it? There was no way he would write an opera just to go along with this song. And besides, even if he did write an opera, there was no telling if it would even be performed.

Erik sighed. This would just have to be another one of his beautiful works, shoved into the darkness like him. He looked at the sheets of paper spread across the piano. Erik decided to play the beginning all the way through for the fifth time. It was now eleven o'clock.

_I have been wrong about you  
Thought I was strong without you  
For so long nothing could move me  
For so long nothing could change me_

_Now I feel myself surrender  
Each time I see your face  
I'm captured by your beauty  
Your unassuming grace_

This song needed more, of course. But it was late, and Erik was dead tired. He had worked on this song for three hours without even looking up from his work. After gathering the music together, Erik set the pile on top of the piano thoughtfully. He changed into his night clothes and slowly crawled into his bed. His mask now lied next to a candle and the clock on the side table. Then he blew out the candle and was enveloped in darkness once more.

* * *

**The song that Erik is writing is actually _My Confession_ by Josh Groban. I heard it and knew it had to be in this story. Don't worry, it will get more action later.**


	12. Love and Music

**Love and Music**

Marie giggled. Peter let his lips graze the edge of her ear, then he whispered, "I love you." She turned her head and looked at him. They stared intently into each other's eyes. "I love _you_," Marie murmured back.

They had become more intimate over the last few months. Holding hands in public, kissing more, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears… the list went on. Marie felt that it had to do with Erik's commitment to Amelia. He inspired them to a point where they believed that if Erik would do such drastic things for the girl he loved, then they should want to do more for each other. And, having that mindset, Marie and Peter _did_ do more for each other as a couple. Oddly enough, they also wanted to.

They went on actual _dates_. Peter had taken her to a lovely restaurant and they took a walk in the park afterwards. Sitting on a bench with him outside at nine o'clock in the evening made her realize that something had changed between them: something for the better. They discussed events outside of the Opera Populaire. The building where they both lived and worked had seemed to be the only item of conversation in their relationship. But now, the couple talked of what they wanted to do with their lives. Marie had never known that Peter wanted to be in the law enforcement, and some day he hoped to be chief of police. It made her proud to know that he wanted to help his city. Peter already knew that she wanted to eventually be the ballet mistress at the opera house.

The couple went to an opera which Marie wasn't in and Peter didn't need to help with. He was a stagehand and usually worked with the backdrops. They had held hands throughout the opera. Marie had whispered a few comments about the music to Peter and he had listened attentively. Once the opera was finished, they went to the after party.

They drank in good spirits with some dancers and stagehands. Marie found that she enjoyed Peter's friends' company as much as her own friends. Laughter filled the hall along with the smell of liquor and smoke. Usually, she didn't like that type of atmosphere, but that night it failed to be a nuisance to her. Marie just enjoyed herself and the lighthearted conversations with her new friends.

It was late. She kept on nodding off while trying to listen to someone. Marie excused herself and Peter from the group.

"I don't think I can stay awake for another five minutes. I'm going to go to bed." Peter looked at her, a little disappointed, but he understood.

"I had a wonderful time," Marie added, seeing his discontent, "I always do when I'm with you." He smiled at her exhausted, yet cheerful face.

Peter and Marie walked back to her dormitory, hand in hand. They stopped outside of the door and he just looked at her. Peter's hand touched her cheek, and then it gently lead her face towards his. Their lips connected in a chaste kiss; it almost felt like the first time all over again. Marie opened her eyes and looked up at Peter. She knew then and there that she truly loved him and would be happy to spend the rest of her life with him

* * *

"And now I know. I _really_ know." 

Marie just relived the scenario from the night before to Caitlin and Amelia. The two younger girls sighed in admiration. It was so wonderful to know exactly when you have fallen in love. Amelia smiled; she hoped that she could have a beautiful relationship like that. But a thought entered her mind. As a matter of fact, this thought had waltzed in and out of her head a lot for the past week: Erik. Just… Erik.

At their last lesson, he had – yet again – helped her to improve so much. His teaching ability was just amazing. There was a point during her solo when Erik put his hand on her elbow, gently pushing it upwards. All he had done was fix her posture, but his touch had made her feel strange.

_The lesson had been going quite well. Amelia got through her scales without too much help from Erik, but he did give her a few pointers. Now they moved on to her solo piece. Erik decided it would help her technique and sight-reading skills to read through a solo, practice it, master it and move on to another. Amelia had been playing this piece for a few weeks and she was getting a bit lazy._

_Erik saw her posture slowly droop, as if she was bored of playing. He put his hand on her left elbow and slowly lifted it up. His hand lingered there a little longer than it should have. She looked over at him, still playing. Erik's hand quickly left her elbow. Amelia concentrated back on the music. She stumbled a bit over the next few measures, partially because she tended to skip that section, and because she was still thinking about the way Erik's hand had felt…_

"_Amelia, have you practiced this part?" he asked._

_She bit her lip. "Well…not as much as the rest."_

"_It shows." He hated doing this to her, but if she was going to make it in the Populaire's orchestra, he was going to be blunt with her. _

What was going on? She hated to admit it – she almost felt embarrassed about it – but Amelia felt something towards him. He was just so nice to her, perhaps a bit skittish at times, but when he smiled at her… Amelia shook her head. A sixteen-year-old shouldn't have a foolish crush on her teacher! But was it a crush? Did she really even like him?

"Amelia?" She snapped out of her reverie and saw that Caitlin and Marie were both staring at her.

"What?" Brows raised, Amelia wondered if she had missed something important.

Caitlin looked at her friend, wondering what exactly was occupying her mind.

"Nothing," she answered.

As Amelia and Caitlin walked back to their dormitory for the night, they said nothing for a while. Caitlin was thinking furiously about her friend. Amelia had been quite – for lack of a better word – dazed the past week or so. She spaced out in the middle of conversations as if she were either thinking incredibly hard about something else, or not thinking at all. But Caitlin knew better. She had seen that look on Amelia's face before. A minute, thoughtful smile sat on her face, eyes glazed over: she was thinking about Erik.

It had been too long since she'd seen that face. Caitlin watched her friend as they walked down the silent corridor. Amelia sensed this and looked over at her. A smirk was painted on Caitlin's lips. Her friend raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Amelia looked at her, trying to appear confused about who she was speaking of, yet embarrassed because they both knew exactly who.

_And it's about time, too._

* * *

Erik put his hand on his chin thoughtfully. He stared at the music in front of him. Something was missing… 

Ever since he wrote the song explaining how he felt about Amelia, Erik had been writing other songs. Not all of the others were as emotional as the first, and none of them had lyrics. This song was probably going to be the next best once it was finished, but it needed something. Erik chewed on the side of his forefinger. Gnawing at his appendages was becoming a bad habit. He caught himself and sat on his hand.

But he still glared at the hand-written music. It was mediocre. Too plain; too bland. All of the other songs had something particular about them. They had some type of interesting instrument solo, or an emotional section. Erik realized something: all of his songs were the same. This one needed to stand out and be different, like the first song. He needed a second opinion. But who was good enough for the job? Monsieur Reyer was too busy to help, and honestly, Erik didn't think that Charles was the composer type. Peter was good company, but he knew very little about music. _Amelia_, his mind hissed at him.

Erik chewed at the callous on his finger again. But why would Amelia help him? She didn't owe him anything, why would she _want_ to help him? _Did you ever think that if you just asked her, she would be happy to oblige? _No, there was no reason in the world that she would simply _oblige_ a request from him. He saw how frustrated she got when he reprimanded her for not practicing. She probably wouldn't do anything for him outside of their lessons. Even if he – _Stop. Consider what you just thought._

Erik took a breath. Should he ask her to help him as a teacher or as a friend? He knew that she would assist him if he gave it to her as an assignment. But why was he her teacher to begin with? To make her fall in love with him again. So, asking her as a friend could possibly bring them closer. Erik looked down at his raw finger. Why must he make such difficult decisions? He sighed.

The next morning the five friends sat together at breakfast. Peter and Marie talked mostly to each other, but socialized a bit with the others. When Erik reached the middle of his oatmeal, he looked up at Amelia. It had been a while since he ate with her. He figured that smothering her with his presence was not the way to go about it. She stood up.

"Well, I should probably get started," Amelia stated, meaning her job.

As she began to leave, Caitlin gave Erik a look. He knew that she wanted him to go with her. Amelia had most likely confided in Caitlin about the practicing incident. And Caitlin wanted him to talk to her about it. Man, he was good. He looked back down into his breakfast. He shouldn't have to apologize for acting like a teacher. Caitlin kicked him in the shin. Alright, maybe he did. Erik stood and followed Amelia out of the dining hall.

"Amelia, wait." She turned around outside of the doorway. Her expression was unreadable.

"I just wanted to make sure you – you're not mad at me, are you?" She didn't answer at first. She just looked at him, eyes scanning his face.

"Mad at you for what?" she asked, knowingly.

Erik sighed. "For chastising you. I'm sorry. I –"

"I'm not mad."

"But I thought you –" Erik started.

"Sure, I vented a little to Caitlin right after the lesson, but it's not that big of a deal. It's okay. You were just trying to help me." Amelia smiled.

Unconsciously, they both started walking together. Erik felt relieved. They walked to the mail room, and he figured that she wouldn't mind him helping out. The man in charge of the mail gave them all the letters and boxes. Erik noticed a young man a little older than himself sorting some papers. He looked at the pair with slightly jealous eyes. Erik decided to ignore this.

He watched Amelia as she prepared the letters for Monsieur Francois. She had become an expert messenger. Erik copied her and organized the mail in his hands. When they reached the manager's office, Amelia picked up a few envelopes from the box outside of his door and dropped a few letters in.

"Monsieur Reyer is next," she said, looking at him for a moment.

Erik nodded quietly.

He took this silence as time to admire Amelia. Her hair was getting long; it was a little past the middle of her back. Yet it had stayed the same color the last couple months: a soft caramel color. Her dress was an olive tint, which accented the green in her eyes. The dress was quite simple. It stopped mid-calf, had a little bit of lace around the barely drooping neckline, and the sleeves flared faintly above her elbows.

It took Erik a moment to realize that they were standing outside of Monsieur Reyer's office. Amelia knocked three times on the closed door. A few seconds passed, and then Charles appeared in the doorway. He looked slightly hassled.

"Oh, hello Amelia," he said, sounding a bit distracted. She returned the greeting and placed the small stack of envelopes on his desk. As he retrieved some of his messages, Charles looked back up.

"Erik," he stated simply.

"Yes," Erik replied. Charles was obviously confused as to why he was there, but shook his head and continued gathering papers nonetheless.

Once Amelia had collected all of Monsieur Reyer's letters, she and Erik left his rather chaotic office. He had felt stressed just looking at the place. Amelia looked through a few envelopes and made a noise of recognition. Erik looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"There's one in here for you," she said, handing him an envelope. Erik pocketed the letter, deciding that he would read it later. They finished her route within an hour, talking a little between each stop. The entire time, he was thinking about how he was going to ask her to help him with his music. Now they were sitting on a bench with a view out a window. Amelia thought that he had seemed distracted, and she said so. Erik gazed out of the window before saying anything.

"I wanted to… ask you something," he said, still thinking.

Amelia looked over at him. "Yes?"

"Well, I've been working on…composing. I wanted to broaden my musical skills by learning how each instrument can mesh with an entire orchestra." _Well, that's partially it… _"And now I've learned my musical skills aren't _that_ incredible. I have written a few songs, but none of them are really impressive. There is one song that has so much potential, but I can't seem to bring that out. I need a second opinion, another ear, something that can make _this_ song spectacular."

Amelia seemed to be absorbing all he had just said. Her knuckles slowly tucked under her chin thoughtfully. "You want me to help you compose a song?" She seemed to be amazed that he would ask her.

"I'd be honored if you would assist me."

She looked at him and bit the inside of her cheek. "Is this for lessons or…?" She didn't really know what to call it.

"Extracurricular."

"I suppose it would be rather enjoyable to make my own music for once." Erik's heart leapt at her realization. "When and where do want to do this composing?"

He hadn't thought this far; he had allowed himself to believe that she would say no. When Erik looked at a loss for words, Amelia smiled.

"How about tomorrow after lunch in a practice room?"

Erik nodded, "Yes that would be perfect."

She smiled again and stood. He stood up as well, but turned to go in the opposite direction. For a fleeting moment, Erik saw Amelia's eyes flicker over his mask. Then she looked into his eyes and turned around to walk down the corridor. That moment had been the first in a very long time. He felt like a fool for almost forgetting about what lied behind the mask. Now that no one acknowledged it, he had stopped worrying about it.

But Amelia had acknowledged the mask. She noticed

* * *

Caitlin found herself grinding her teeth as she left orchestra rehearsal that day. She tried breathing slowly, counting to ten, and even thinking happy thoughts. Nothing could make these vicious thoughts melt away. She just wanted to _strangle_ him! She obviously wasn't hiding her anger very well because a few people looked at her worriedly as she passed. One of them was Amelia. 

"Would you murder me if I asked you what was wrong?"

Caitlin sighed heavily. "No. But there is someone who I would very much enjoy to murder." Amelia raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"It's Thomas. He's a stuck up trumpet player."

"And you wish to kill him."

"Exactly."

"Elaborate."

"He's always making rude comments, critiquing me unnecessarily, and he is just plain condescending," Caitlin finished with a huff.

They walked on for a little in silence. Amelia couldn't recall anyone by the name Thomas. Caitlin explained his appearance.

"He's rather tall. His hair is a dark caramel color; a little darker than yours. And he has blue eyes." He was one year Caitlin's senior: nineteen. The way she talked about him made Amelia think that she was almost fond of him. But she chose not to voice that opinion. She just let Caitlin rant her heart out all the way to dinner.

When her friend finally couldn't think of anything else to say about Thomas, they were almost finished with their food. Amelia looked around the dining hall. She saw Erik sitting with Peter and a few other stagehands a few tables over. She'd been dying to tell Caitlin and Marie about her composing date with Erik. Amelia seized the moment when Caitlin wasn't speaking to tell them. She explained what Erik was up to and how he asked her to help him. Her friends seemed quite interested.

"Asking you to help shows that he has confidence in you," Caitlin said, completely immersed in this 'composing date'. "Maybe this means that you'll be able to join the orchestra soon!"

"I doubt it. I've still got a lot of learning to do," Amelia said. She looked back over at Erik's table. He was sitting there listening to the other young men talk. He seemed perfectly content to listen and not speak. After a few moments, he caught her staring at him. They just looked at each other for a while; then Amelia smiled awkwardly and averted her gaze back to her empty plate.

The next day, Amelia felt strangely nervous. She was excited for this opportunity, but she found her heart beating rather fast. Multiple times she glanced over to where Erik was sitting. The first few times Amelia looked in his direction, Caitlin tried to see what she kept staring at. But by the end of lunch, she would just smile to herself.

Amelia made her way towards the main entrance and passed Erik in the process.

"Are you ready?" he asked, looking up at her.

She nodded. "Should I get my violin?"

"That's a good idea," Erik replied. "I'll meet you in the large practice room."

Erik was setting a few things up when Amelia came in the practice room. She looked around the considerably large room; she was surprised that Erik had managed to get it for them. It was usually occupied by singing ensembles or groups of orchestra members.

"How did you manage to get it?" Amelia asked, quite astonished.

"I have my connections," Erik said, smiling slightly.

Amelia smiled, rolling her eyes amicably. "So let's see this soon-to-be piece of art."

Erik handed her a small stack of music. She read it, trying to imagine how it would sound in her head, but she failed miserably.

"Could you play it for me? I just can't quite get the feel of it."

Erik nodded and began playing it on the piano. Amelia sat in a chair next to the piano and watched. As he played, she could imagine other parts of the orchestra participating with him. It started out slow, but she could tell that it was a happy song. Amelia closed her eyes while she listened. She could picture Marie and other ballerinas dancing blithely to this song; although it would be a very intricate ballet, Marie would be most capable of dancing it.

Amelia's eyes opened and wandered along Erik's hands. She watched his long, graceful fingers adroitly press each key. Then she looked at his arms. They were thin, but they looked stronger when he played the piano; the way he played made everything about him seem strong. Her eyes gazed at his face. The unmasked side was all she could see. She felt her stomach lurch and her heart speed up when she realized how handsome he was. His eyes slid shut as the piece got a little slower. This music was intoxicating. As he pressed the last few notes of the song, Amelia tried to snap out of her reverie.

He looked over at her. She was staring at the piano, eyes transfixed. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something. Amelia brought her hand to her cheek and closed her mouth, and then opened it again.

"I really can't describe how… amazing that was."

Erik smiled and shook his head modestly.

"No! Really, you have an incredible talent," Amelia told him truthfully.

He looked back at her. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. She looked radiant.

"Thank you. But I still feel like something is missing."

Amelia took the music from the piano. She studied it for a while. Her eyes went back and forth, reading the music. Then she set the music back on the piano and picked up her violin and played a small variation of what Erik had written. She added a few grace notes and extra notes between the melody; it sounded much more beautiful. Erik stared at her, amazed at what she had just played. Amelia, not noticing, took the music from the piano and added those notes above the staff as a suggestion. When she looked up to see Erik gaping at her, she jumped.

"What?" she asked, rather startled.

"How did you know _exactly_ what the music needed?"

Amelia shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I guess the notes just popped into my head, so I tried them out and they sounded…better?"

_You are amazing. Simply amazing._

The couple worked for quite some time editing and revising the music. They would try a few variations out either on the piano or her violin and add or alter notes. Neither had felt more content to make music with the other. Erik couldn't believe the talent that was pouring out of Amelia. When something didn't sound quite right to him, she had already found an alternate way to play it – a better way. Amelia had never felt so exhilarated. She felt so professional composing music like this. And she couldn't understand how Erik could do this on his own. He seemed to appreciate her help very much. She couldn't have been happier to oblige his request.

The sound of Amelia's stomach growling forced them to come to a stop. Erik glanced at the clock on the wall behind them. It was five o'clock: dinner time.

"Sorry this took so long. I guess I lost track of time."

Amelia shook her head. "That's fine, I really enjoyed helping you." She smiled.

They gathered their own things and stood in silence for a moment or two.

"Same time tomorrow?" Erik asked hopefully.

Amelia smiled a genuinely happy smile. "I would like that."

* * *

Amelia had left an hour ago, yet Erik still stayed in the large practice room. He had booked it for the rest of the day, unsure of how long they would take, but knowing that he would want to stay afterwards. After she left, Erik thought about the song he began writing for her. He sure wouldn't mind her help on it, but he didn't want to show it to her. Of course he wouldn't tell her that he wrote it about her, but he didn't want to pour out his heart and soul in front of her. Well, not just yet, anyway. 

He played the song a few times through. It was memorized now that he played it almost every day. Slowly he hummed the lyrics along with the melody. He had all of the lyrics now, and they were very moving. Erik felt his eyes burn and his chest tighten. Why did this song do this to him every time he played it? Whenever he got to a certain point, it made him choke up.

Erik sighed and gathered his music. He wasn't hungry, and they weren't serving supper any more. With a weary stride, he made his way towards his home. As he walked through the endless corridors, he passed the dormitory wing. Erik looked down one hall and saw Amelia sitting on the floor outside of a room, reading. He knew that she was looking over their music that he copied down verbatim. His eyes lingered over her profile. He was surprised when he realized that her beauty still took his breath away.

Eventually, Erik had to leave Amelia alone. Once he reached his home, he heaved a sigh and fell onto his bed. The candlelight flickered oddly over his hanging jacket. Something caught his eye. Erik stood and looked into the pocket of the jacket. Inside was the letter that Monsieur Reyer had given him yesterday. He silently hoped that it wasn't an urgent message…

The note read:

_Erik – _

_I would very much appreciate it if you would accompany me to Giselle's flute lessons. I think that it would immensely help your musical skills to observe. Her next lesson is this Thursday at six o'clock._

_Sincerely,_

_Monsieur Charles Reyer  
_

* * *

**Things are starting to get juicy!! Please review. I love to have your feedback!**

**Oh yes - the song that Erik and Amelia are writing is a kind of different arrangement of Canon in D. When I first heard this arrangement, I knew it had to be in this story! (And we'll just pretend that Pachelbel didn't write it first...)**_  
_


	13. Angel and Demon

**I revised the first four or so chapters. There were just a few minor changes, nothing big. But you might want to reread the first chapter - I changed the reason why Amelia gets captured. And in chapter 7 I added the 'velvet box'...**

**But enjoy this chapter! It has taken a long time to get this one done. **

* * *

**Angel and Demon**

As Erik lay there in his bed, the same question kept floating throughout his mind. _Why does Monsieur Reyer want me to observe a flute lesson? And only Giselle's?_ He shook his head, still utterly confused by the letter. Just watching one flute lesson wouldn't 'immensely help his musical skills'. Erik took off his mask and set it on the side table. It seemed rather suspicious, but he didn't want to disobey Charles. Perhaps this really would help him musically.

He woke up the following morning with an odd feeling of dread hanging over him. Today was Giselle's lesson. Erik didn't know why he was so anxious about it. He sleepily walked over to a small mirror hanging on the stone wall and looked at his reflection. His eyes gazed intently at the deformity; his long fingers lightly grazed the marred skin. Erik did this every day, reminding himself that he was not normal. After looking away from his reflection, he harshly combed his thick hair back.

As he picked up a fresh shirt, Erik looked over at his piano. The music that he and Amelia had written was sitting on it. Smiling slightly, he walked over to the piano and touched the paper. _Mia…_

A sudden thought threw him out of his reverie. Erik ran his hand through his hair, and then started biting his finger. _Was this a mistake? _He quickly finished getting dressed and ran as fast as he could up the countless flights of stairs. Once he reached Monsieur Reyer's office, Erik took a few slow breaths, and then knocked. After a few moments, Charles opened the door. The man looked rather hassled, as he had the last time Erik saw him. Monsieur Reyer smiled for a brief moment, as if relieved Erik weren't someone else. "Erik, please, come in," he said.

Erik stepped over the threshold into Monsieur Reyer's office and then turned to look at him. He held up the note and looked at him.

"I don't want to question your knowledge or power, Monsieur Reyer. The only inquiry I have is about the date. Did you realize that I teach Amelia on Thursdays at six o'clock?"

Charles glanced at the note and hesitated. "Oh. It must have slipped my mind… Would you mind rescheduling her lesson? I would really appreciate it if you'd accompany me to Giselle's."

Erik lifted his hand and gnawed at the callous on his finger, "Perhaps just this once."

Monsieur Reyer's expression was almost undecipherable, but Erik knew that he saw happiness and devastation there. It was a rather odd combination.

After a few moments of strange silence, Charles said, "Well, I'm glad we got this cleared up. But if you don't mind, I have quite a bit of work to catch up on."

"Of course," Erik said, letting himself out.

"Thank you very much."

Erik stole one last glance at his teacher as the door slowly closed. One of Charles's hands was atop his head, the other searching through the sea of papers on his desk. He felt sorry for him – he looked rather helpless.

* * *

Erik sat down next to Amelia at their usual table. She looked over at him and smiled. Though she obviously looked pleased to see him, she appeared to be very tired. She yawned widely. 

"Are you alright?" Erik asked.

She rubbed her eyes. "I stayed up pretty late last night looking at our music."

He felt his stomach drop when she said 'our'.

"It was just so… I don't know. It's addicting, I guess. I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I couldn't stop revising it, either." Amelia pulled out a small stack of music. Her writing was all over the score. "I hope you don't mind," she said, rather shyly.

He took the music and gazed at it for a moment. Her ideas were incredible. Erik couldn't believe some of the things she wrote.

"No… that's absolutely fantastic that you did this. This shows how much your musical knowledge has broadened." He looked up at her. "And I know what you mean about it being addicting." When Erik wrote his song for Amelia, he had stayed up all night and didn't eat anything. He actually had never been hungry all that day and night.

They talked about the music for the rest of breakfast. Erik praised her multiple times on her revisions. When the subject of her lessons came up, he remembered what he had been dreading earlier that morning.

"Something has come up. Monsieur Reyer has scheduled me to observe another lesson at that time. We don't have to have lessons today, if you don't want."

She looked disappointed.

"We could work on the music, though. Just earlier, perhaps after lunch again?"

Amelia smiled. "I'd like that."

He nodded. "Well, I'll have to get more paper."

"Sorry about that."

Erik stood and smiled at her. As he walked behind her, he let his fingers brush along her hair against her back. Amelia knew that he had touched her. She felt her eyes slide closed and her heart begin to thump against her ribcage. She bit her lip. What was it about his hands that intoxicated her so? This feeling they left her with… it just didn't seem possible. It had lasted for only a moment, but the feeling stayed with her all day.

Erik, unknowing of his affect on her, was still savoring the feeling of her hair as he left the dining hall. He took his time walking down to his home. Everything seemed to be terrible earlier, but now he couldn't be happier. Erik took a detour down a corridor full of practice rooms. He peeked through the window of the large practice room, wondering if it was occupied. What he saw rather surprised him.

A dark-haired woman's back was facing him. She was leaning over someone who was sitting down. Erik's brow furrowed. Were they kissing? Then he realized the woman's high class attire. This had to be Giselle. But who was she hanging all over? When she moved out of the way, Erik could see the man's face, but he didn't recognize him. Once she turned around, he saw her up close for the first time. She had deep green eyes and ebony hair. Erik realized how pretty she was.

He turned and walked away from the door. Ignoring what he just saw, Erik went straight to the grotto and retrieved the blank papers. He sat down at the piano bench. Why had he taken notice of Giselle? He felt his jaw muscles clench. There was nothing to like about her. Sure, she was pretty, but she wasn't a good person. Erik closed his eyes. But _why_ did he look at her like that? He was in love with Amelia.

_Amelia. _Erik felt himself forgetting about Giselle immediately. He looked down at the blank staffs in front of him. In a few hours, these papers would be full of her writing. Their music. He gently set the paper aside and pulled out his song for Amelia. There was something about this song that always made his heart ache for her. But it was a good feeling. It reminded him that he still loved her.

_He still loved her. _

* * *

Amelia opened the door to the practice room Erik told her to be at. She set down her violin case and took out the instrument. After tuning it, she set their song on the piano. She had practically memorized it now. Amelia played the music with her heart. Her eyes were closed, but she could see the music as if it were written on the inside of her eyelids. She could tell that it sounded beautiful. But she knew that it sounded even better on the piano with Erik playing it. 

Once she finished, Amelia opened her eyes and sat down on the piano bench.

"That was beautiful." She felt herself shiver from that familiar voice.

"Thank you," she turned around to find Erik holding a stack of paper with blank staffs on them. "Though, it's even more beautiful on the piano."

Erik smiled thoughtfully down at her. They gazed contently at each other for a moment. Amelia licked her lips and faced the piano. Erik sat next to her on the bench and placed the music in front of them. He stared at her markings once more before playing. Her ideas sounded even better than she had expected.

When the song came to an end, Erik kept his hands poised on the keys. He gazed at the music in front of him. This was incredible. He had never heard anything so beautiful. Erik picked up the blank paper and began writing the music in along with their revisions. It was much easier to read this way. As he wrote, Amelia played a few of the notes gently on the piano. She was obviously not trained on the piano, but she knew where the notes were. He oddly found her amateur tinkering attractive.

He looked over at her as she pressed a few more keys. Erik wanted so badly to voice his feelings. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and tell her that he loved her. But the time wasn't right. Not yet.

Amelia stopped tinkering and turned toward him on the piano bench. She watched how he intently wrote each note. Her eyes caressed his hands, his fingers. She was reminded of when he touched her hair earlier and Amelia felt her feelings resurfacing. Was it right to like him, though? Could they do that?

She swallowed, hoping her feelings would follow. Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it again; she wasn't sure what to say. There was something that she wanted to ask, but she felt strange asking it. After biting her lip for a few moments, she spoke.

"Is there more?"

Erik looked over at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"More music? …Can we write more?" she felt childish asking him like this.

Erik froze. Was she asking to spend more time with him so they could write more music together? "Of – of course," he replied, almost breathless.

Amelia gave him a timid smile and looked back at the piano. She bit her lip again, longing to ask another question, but fearing she'd sound completely idiotic. Erik saw her internal struggle written on her face. "What is it?" he asked softly. She glanced at him, and then fixed her eyes on her hands. "You'll think it's childish."

"I'd never think that of an idea you came up with," he said motioning toward the music she had revised.

Amelia bit the inside of her cheek as she thought how to word her proposal. "I've been thinking of this song as… a ballet… in an opera." She licked her lips nervously. "This song has inspired me to write the rest of the opera. With you."

Erik looked over at her, rather astonished that she would even mention him in her great scheme. Amelia hadn't looked up from her hands at all, afraid of his reaction.

"Mia," he whispered.

Her head whipped quickly to the side to stare at him. The name triggered something in her brain. No one had ever called her _Mia_ before. It left a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. It was something she hadn't felt in a very long time. Could it be… joy? As she looked into his dark eyes, she felt her heart pounding beneath her ribcage. What was this? Why did she suddenly feel this way?

"Amelia." His voice made her realize that she was staring at him. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

She swallowed. What _did_ she have in mind? Amelia squinted while she tried to remember. Her cheeks grew slightly pink. "Again, you'll think it's childish."

"You have my same response as before," Erik said, looking at her.

"There was this story I used to read my younger sister when I lived in Nice. It was a fairytale and it always seemed incomplete to me." Amelia paused, embarrassed.

"Go on," he urged. Erik had a strange feeling that he knew what it was going to be.

"It was called _Angel of Music_. Every time you play the song we wrote, I imagine…." She felt incredibly foolish at this point. Amelia had never spoke of the scene she always saw when Erik played their song.

Even though he saw the light blush playing on her cheeks, Erik really wished for her to continue. "What do you imagine?" he asked softly.

"I picture Little Lotte dancing with her Angel of Music." Amelia looked away as she felt her blush deepen.

"That is a very creative and romantic motive you have," Erik said in all seriousness. She lifted her eyebrow and looked up at him, suspecting sarcasm.

"No, really. I find that very intriguing. I've never thought of it that way. Do you mean to say that they are in love?"

Amelia found his ardent reaction rather surprising. "Well…yes, actually. I've always imagined Little Lotte falling in love with her Angel, even though he is not human. Although, I'm still not sure how they could be dancing if that is true…"

Erik just watched her as she tried to find a loophole to make her dream a fictional reality. He was quite intrigued with this whole thing. As a matter of fact, he was eager to hear more of her opinions on the fairytale. He actually wanted to write this opera with her; he felt as though this is what they were destined to do.

"What if he was human?" Erik interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" Amelia asked, astonished.

"What if… what if he was a fallen angel – a real, tangible person?"

"Well, that would change things…"

Erik laughed lightly. Amelia looked up at him, wondering why he would laugh at her. But she found that she really liked his laugh. She hadn't heard it that often.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Of course it would change things…Mia, write this opera with me." There he went again, calling her Mia. The feeling in her stomach resurfaced and made its way to her heart. She nodded wordlessly.

* * *

Erik had left the practice room and Amelia grudgingly. They had tinkered with ideas for the opera for quite a while, along with a few songs. He considered possibly showing her the song he wrote for her. Although, he would_not_ tell her that he did write it for her. Nothing was official yet, but he could imagine this whole performance showing on stage. 

And now he walked down a dead corridor, cursing Monsieur Reyer, cursing Giselle. Erik could feel that he and Amelia were getting closer. He noticed the way she reacted when he had called her his pet name for her. The look she gave him was intense, and then the emotions on her face were hard to distinguish. She had gazed at him as if she was confused and then her face shifted to a content expression. She seemed happy that he had called her that.

Erik's musings were interrupted. He stood in front of Giselle's practice room's door. He ground his teeth slightly and reached for the knob. _I just have to get through this one lesson. How bad could it be? _When he entered the room, Erik first noticed Monsieur Reyer. His expression was as harassed as it had been this morning. Charles stood from his chair and walked toward Erik reaching for a handshake. Giselle stepped right in front of her teacher and placed her hand in Erik's outstretched one. She smiled a strange, seductive smile at him.

"It is a pleasure to have you at my lesson, Monsieur Destler," she purred, Greek accent seeping through her French language.

Erik said nothing but nodded slightly at her. "Shall we get started, then?" he directed his question at Monsieur Reyer.

"Of course," Giselle said.

She sauntered over to her flute and the music stand. After taking a delicate breath, she started a scale. Erik took the chair that Charles had previously been sitting on and observed the lesson. The scale that Giselle played sounded piercing and too high to him. He noticed multiple times while she was playing or as Monsieur Reyer spoke to her that her intense eyes crawled over to him. The way she looked at him made him feel uncomfortable. Each time she glanced his way, he saw that her eyes lingered on his mask longer than the rest of him.

Erik tried to pay attention to the lesson, to the way Monsieur Reyer taught. That was the whole point of this, wasn't it? Charles had just told her the proper way to do a technique. Giselle seemed irritated with her teacher; as if she thought that she didn't need to have lessons. Erik found her annoying. He missed Amelia. He missed the warmth of the sound of her violin. He missed the piano. He hated this cold, sharp flute.

Once Giselle finished her solo, Erik felt all of his muscles relax. Her raw green eyes stared at him, as if waiting applause. He bit his tongue and looked at Charles.

"That will be all for the evening. Thank you Giselle," Monsieur Reyer said quietly. Giselle almost glared at him and then put her flute away.

Erik immediately stood and left the practice room. He knew both Giselle and Charles had to be staring at him as he walked out, but he didn't care. What was this feeling he had in the pit of his stomach? It felt like hatred, pure hatred, but there was something else. Why did he hate her so much, and so soon? Did he judge her? Did Erik automatically choose to hate her because he had heard bad things about her?

Erik turned a corner, heading for his home. He heard someone calling his name. The first person that came to mind spurred him to walk faster. He heard her footsteps, trying to keep up with his. Why was she _chasing_ him?

"Erik, wait!" The voice was closer; it wasn't Giselle.

"Amelia?" He spun around on the spot. This, however, wasn't the best decision. Amelia was practically running at full speed to keep up with him, but now he had stopped abruptly. The first thing Erik saw was her alarmed face, and then she crashed into him.

Amelia's entire body ran into Erik's and then she bounced off. He could tell she was going to fall flat on her back. The first problem he saw was Amelia hurting her head again. The second was the fact that he would have caused it…again. And the third: this would be quite embarrassing for the both of them. She reached up to him as she fell backwards, and Erik grabbed her hand, catching her once she was about a foot away from the ground.

Erik pulled her up. "Are you alright?"

A deep blush surged across Amelia's cheeks. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Mia, are you alright?"

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "Yes."

He felt her heartbeat accelerate. Wait, how did he feel that? Erik looked down. When he had pulled her up, he kept her hand in his and they were sitting lightly against her chest. Amelia looked down, following his eyes. He pulled his hand away from her chest, feeling like he was violating her.

"Is – is your head okay?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Amelia's hand reached behind her head, almost involuntarily. "Yes, I'm fine." She was still distracted. The feeling of holding Erik's hand was exhilarating. His hand was warm and she had felt calluses on a few of his fingers.

"So…" Erik began, trying to fill in the silence. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

Amelia stared at him blankly. "What?"

"Well, there must have been a reason why you were running after me," he said, smiling.

"Oh! Yes. I – I wanted to show you some of my ideas for…" Amelia trailed off. Erik was staring very intently at something behind her. He looked angry. Just as she started to look behind her, he took her hand and pulled her around the corner. "Come on," he murmured.

Amelia didn't object. He was still holding her hand. But she really was curious about what they were doing. "What's going on?" she asked quietly. She felt like they were being secretive.

"It's Giselle," he whispered. "I just finished her lesson."

"Does she want to talk to you?" Amelia asked, also whispering.

"Yes."

"…Do you not want to talk to her?"

Erik looked at her and smiled slightly. "No, I don't."

"Erik?" They heard Giselle's high-pitched voice fill the empty corridor.

He broke into a run and Amelia couldn't help laughing a little. Erik shushed her good-naturedly and opened the nearest door. The couple threw themselves inside and closed the door. It was pitch black inside. They stood next to the door and listened. Both were rather out of breath and tried to keep quiet. They heard the clicking of Giselle's heels as she searched aimlessly.

Once the clicking faded away, Amelia let out the breath she was holding. Now she realized that they were in a dark room. She squinted, trying to get her eyes to adjust.

"Are we in a closet?" Amelia whispered.

Erik started laughing very hard. She had never heard him laugh like that before. After a few moments, she thought he would stop. But he didn't. He kept on laughing hysterically. "What is so funny?" Amelia asked. Now she started laughing.

Erik grabbed her waist for support and leaned over slightly. His sides were starting to hurt; he'd never laughed like this, ever. Amelia was rather surprised at his action, but she continued laughing. She was crying now. She reached up to dry her eyes. But on the way up, her hand hit something. What it was, Amelia had no idea; it was too dark. Until she heard it hit the floor. Erik had stopped laughing and unwound his hands from her waist.

_Oh no. _She had touched the untouchable. It had seemed like there was an unspoken bond between them. Amelia respected Erik's privacy and had never asked about nor touched his mask. And here she had completely knocked it off. Oxygen filled her lungs quickly in a loud gasp. She felt him lean over and pick it up.

"Erik… I – I…" Amelia was suddenly afraid that he would be furious. "I'm so sorry."

There was a short silence. The tears returned, but they weren't from laughter. She had violated him. She destroyed their friendship and possibilities of…

"Mia, are you crying?"

Erik's eyes were better at seeing in the dark than anyone's. He could see her outline and some of the details on her face – including a tear or two running down her cheek. He reached out and wiped them away.

"I – I thought…"

"I'm not mad, Mia. It's alright."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You are forgiven," Erik replied.

They stood there in the dark closet for a few more moments. Erik took her hand as he waited for her to recover. Amelia wasn't actually 'recovering,' though. She just stood there, pretending to sniffle, just so he would hold her hand for a bit longer…

* * *

It was late. Really late. Erik finally went to bed. But even as he tried to sleep he still envisioned all of the events that had happened that day. He remembered it was only earlier that morning that he was dreading the rest of the day. Giselle's whole lesson wasn't really that bad. The flute just wasn't for him. And neither was Giselle. He sighed and sat up to place his mask on the side table. Surprisingly, his stomach muscles retorted a little. His intense laughing earlier must have given his muscles a foreign workout. 

Erik laid back down. His mind began racing all over again. Only, this time, it was about Amelia. They had finished their song and it sounded amazing. He never would have finished it without her. And her ideas… they were incredible! An opera! Who would have known that's what was going on in her head. Her head… God, if she would have gotten hurt again because of him… Erik sighed again, frustrated.

He looked over to the side table. The only candle lit at the moment was sitting there. His mask was illuminated by it. It wasn't the only item on the table. Next to the candle was a small velvet box. The small velvet box that had caused it all. It made her chase him, which led to… He turned away from the dim light – away from the dreaded box's glare.

_But maybe – _No. Every time he started feeling guilty about what had happened, a voice in his head would try to convince him of fate. _Perhaps it was meant to be. You two were destined to fall in love another way. _Oh no, it couldn't just happen the regular way. Although, the circumstances they were under weren't necessarily normal, either. Erik touched his marred cheek. _What if she is disgusted by me this time? _His pessimistic thoughts always ruined him.

The voice in his head was rather helpful, though. _Who are you thinking about? Amelia wouldn't be disgusted. She is too good of a person; she has a beautiful heart. Perhaps you are thinking of Giselle… She, on the other hand, would most likely be disgusted by you. She's very materialistic and shallow, you know. _

Why did his thoughts keep coming back to Giselle? She was nobody to him. She was a superficial person who shouldn't pay him any mind. So he shouldn't bother to think about her either. His mind was exhausted, as was he. Erik blew out the candle, hoping his aimless thoughts would follow. He thought one last thing before he drifted to sleep: Amelia was his angel and Giselle was his demon.

* * *


	14. And So It Begins

**Hey, sorry it takes me so long to update chapters! I am going to finish this story, so don't worry! Maybe now that it's summer I can be a bit faster on the updating...**

* * *

**And So It Begins**

He dreamed about her again. Lucas sat up in his bed and shoved the hair out of his eyes. It had been a few months since he had tried to kiss Amelia. For the first week or so it had been awkward between them. But she was such a good person; she forgave him. He tried to be a better friend and push his feelings aside, he really did. But he dreamed about her for what felt like almost every night.

Lucas looked out of the window across the room. The sky was a deep purple; the sun would rise in half an hour. He could hear his father stirring in the room next to his. He stood stiffly from his bed and lit the few gas lamps in his room. Lucas shivered; it was early spring and still cold in the mornings. The fire had died in the night and now the fireplace only held dim embers. He changed from his nightclothes to his trousers and a fresh shirt.

There was a small mirror on his wall and he walked over to it. His auburn hair was messy and hung in his eyes. Lucas ran his fingers through it and pushed it out of his face. He looked at his face in the mirror. Who was that staring back at him? This is not what he looked like four months ago. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and there were bluish circles under them. Ever since he realized he could not have Amelia, Lucas had difficulty sleeping. And when he did sleep, he only dreamed about her.

And that is where his problem began. He couldn't have her. Although she didn't know it, she held two hearts in the palm of her hand: his and Erik Destler's. What Amelia saw in him, Lucas didn't know. He was a strange, gawky _boy_ who wore a mask. Well, maybe he wasn't so gawky any more. Throughout the past few months, Erik must have been having a growth spurt. He became taller and grew into his long limbs. Lucas found himself despising her teacher every day.

But hating him would not make Lucas more appealing. He wasn't sure what to do. Every morning Amelia came to the mail room to do her job. His father was kind and friendly to her, and Lucas was oddly jealous. He wanted to greet her or possibly help her with the rounds. Every morning he found himself hiding in the back, wishing that he had enough courage to say _something_ to her. Lucas wanted to hit himself. Courage? He needed _courage_ to talk to a girl who was two years younger than him? Sitting down on his bed, he sighed in frustration.

"Lucas?" his father knocked on his door.

"I'm up," he called.

"We'll leave in five minutes."

He didn't respond. There was something building in the pit of his stomach. It was a strange feeling and it took a moment for him to realize what it was. Determination. Lucas was going to become more appealing to Amelia. He was going to be a better friend and perhaps he would drop a few hints here and there. But maybe, just maybe, she would fall for him and forget all about her teacher.

* * *

The previous evening, Amelia and Erik had stayed up to write another song. Within the past few months, they had brainstormed enough ideas to come up with a rough storyline for the opera. Erik could feel that he and Amelia were getting closer, but he still couldn't rush things. He didn't want to ruin what they had slowly built up.

It was midnight and they were sitting in a practice room. Both were rather tired and it was a dead moment. Amelia stared blankly at the music in front of her. Her chin was resting in her palm and her elbow sat on the piano keys. Erik sat straddling the piano bench, leaned back against her shoulder. His head rested very lightly on the side of hers.

Over the time that had passed, they had become comfortable with each other. Amelia had taken to playfully nudging him when he said something funny. At her lessons, Erik found himself touching her elbow while she played – even just to alter her posture minutely. He took any chance he could get to sniff her hair. It was pathetic, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

And so there they sat, half-thinking and half asleep. Amelia yawned and moved her hand to her forehead. There was something missing from the music, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She was too tired to think about music. The fact that Erik's body was leaning against hers was completely consuming her mind. She felt his hair on her shoulder. Unable to control herself, Amelia let her head rest on top of his. Erik sighed. Each relished in the feeling of the other.

"You know what I've been wondering?" Amelia asked.

"What?" Erik replied without moving.

"Why did you choose the piano? I mean, was there a reason, or did it just happen?"

Erik suddenly felt depressed – an emotion he hadn't felt in a while. Amelia had helped him choose the piano. She helped him find one in the Opera House and sat with him as he played. She had first kissed him while sitting on a piano bench.

When he didn't answer for a few moments, Amelia felt like she had hit a nerve. "You – you don't have to tell me..."

"No. It's alright. I – I guess I wanted to use my hands for something productive. My fingers are just so long." _Well, at least that is partially true._

He lifted his hands and looked at them. His fingers _were_ really long. And his hands were so pale. Just as he began to place them back in his lap, Amelia took his wrist. He turned his head toward her, surprised. She gently pulled his wrist to her so he would sit next to her. Her index finger caressed each of his fingers. Amelia gazed at his large hands as if they were a heavenly gift. She took his first finger and gently stroked the callus on it. She repeated this on each finger.

After a few moments, Amelia let go of his hand, embarrassed. What had come over her? Why did she touch him like that? Erik uncertainly, and reluctantly, pulled his hand back once she let go. Although she turned away from him, he saw the light blush that played on her cheeks. He looked down at his hands again. Why was she so intrigued by them? Knowing that she was embarrassed, he tried resuming their conversation.

"What made you choose the violin?" He really had wondered that in the past.

Amelia glanced over at her violin sitting atop its case and then back to Erik's face. She appeared to be in deep thought.

"Quite frankly, I don't know why my mother bought me one," she sounded like she was musing aloud rather than speaking to him. Her eyes became glassy as she relived some distant memory. She looked up, as if hoping gravity would pull the tears down, away from the surface.

"But I remember her saying something about my father. It was the only thing I ever heard about him from my mother. Or perhaps it was just selective hearing." She took a few breaths before continuing: "I never knew my father. Actually, none of my siblings knew who their fathers were. My mother was a… a whore. But – the only thing I heard her say about him was that he was a violinist. And, I guess I wanted to be more like my father than my mother."

Erik gazed at her. He saw her cheeks becoming slightly pink again and there were tears in her eyes. She looked radiant. Amelia looked away as she wiped her tears. She stood from the bench and walked over to her violin case. Erik also stood once she did.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently.  
"I need to go," she softly replied.

He looked up at the clock on the wall: a quarter past midnight. They both should have gone to bed quite a while ago. He helped her pack up her things and handed her the music. Amelia held it in her hands and looked down at it. Erik seized the moment and kissed her cheek. Her beautiful sea-like eyes gazed up at him. He swallowed as he looked back down at her. Her lips curled slightly and without a single word, she left the practice room. However, Amelia took one last glance behind her as she exited.

* * *

At about ten o'clock in the morning, the usual group sat together for breakfast. Amelia vaguely noticed that Peter and Marie sat next to each other this morning. They held hands and whispered lovingly to one another. It was cute, but something else consumed her mind at the moment. Erik Destler.

She looked up from her breakfast to peek at him and saw that he was doing the same. She smiled and looked back down again.

Caitlin noticed.

"Well, I'm going to the mail room," Amelia said once she finished her oatmeal.

"Might I assist you?" Erik stood up as she did.

"Sure," she smiled at him.

Just as they began to leave the table, Caitlin grabbed Amelia's arm. "Do you mind if I speak to you for a moment?" she asked.

"Fine," Amelia sighed. "Just a moment, Erik," she said, looking up at him.

Caitlin's eyes held a mischievous look. Once out of Erik's ear shot, she whispered, "What's going on between you two?" The smile on her pale face gave away her excitement and hopefulness.

Amelia felt her face heat up. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think of him?" Caitlin asked softly.

"I think I–" she glanced over at Erik and stopped short.

The look on Amelia's face made Caitlin curious. The expression appeared to be… jealousy? She'd never seen that look on her friend's face before. Amelia's eyes flashed dangerously and reminded Caitlin of a raging ocean. Wondering what on earth could make her look like that, Caitlin turned to find the culprit. She found it almost immediately, for it was standing ten feet away from her.

Giselle. She was walking by Erik – actually, it was more like sauntering – and her green eyes burned into his. Her lips held an inviting smirk and there was a sway in her hips. Caitlin recognized at once the way she was looking at him. It was the signal she gave to a man that meant she was available and wanted him. This look never failed and usually ended in the man following her out of the room. Caitlin watched the scene unfold before her.

Erik looked up at Giselle as her walk lingered next to him. Their eyes locked for a moment, but he turned his head deliberately to observe Amelia. His chin fell into his palm, showing that he was perfectly content with watching _her_. An insulted Giselle watched as he walked away from her. Amelia, who had surveyed this scene as well, was surprised and confused as Erik walked toward her. A man who received such a look from Giselle would not walk away from her. But Erik did.

"Shall we go?" he asked, holding out his arm.

Amelia looked up at him. His dark eyes suddenly gave her butterflies. "Yes," she managed to get out. And she took his arm.

Giselle stood in the same spot, frozen. Did he just reject her invitation to be _with her_? She turned her head and watched the couple leave. The whole concept baffled her. She had never been turned down before. Erik was obviously preoccupied with some insignificant girl. But why would he choose a _girl_ over her? Giselle was a beautiful woman who could give him what he wanted.

She looked over at her friend Colette. Well, she used the term 'friend' lightly with her roommate. They were more like allies. Yes, Colette was her comrade. Giselle smiled to herself. They were allies because Colette didn't pose as a threat. Giselle didn't consider her an opponent in this game she played. And yes, this was a game to her – just with great perks for the winner. And she always was the winner. Excluding this incident. Giselle frowned slightly.

"What's wrong?" Colette asked, only moderately concerned.

Giselle bit the inside of her cheek for a moment. "Nothing." She began walking out of the dining hall toward their room, knowing that Colette would follow without a word.

This battle was won, but the war was not over.

* * *

Amelia's arm was still slung through Erik's once they reached the mailroom. They had been silent the whole walk there; both were thinking of the situation that they had walked out of. She was so happy that he hadn't even acknowledged Giselle. His eyes had only been on her. A new wave of butterflies flew across her stomach. Maybe something could finally happen between them. Amelia looked up at him when she thought this. His unmasked side was facing her and she couldn't imagine anything more handsome. Erik must have sensed her staring at him – he looked back down at her.

Erik felt his breath catch in his throat. Amelia was gazing at him. But it wasn't the kind of stare that he had rudely received so many times before. It wasn't an open-mouthed gape, eyes wide in fear and disgust. This stare was one of adoration. Her eyes sparkled and her lips were slightly parted. It suddenly felt like there was a magnet in his lips and an opposite pole in hers. She was leaning toward him as well. His eyes closed slightly as he looked down at her lips, aching to kiss them. It had been so long since he had a taste…

"Amelia!"

They sprang apart in surprise. The magical feeling between them was now lost. Erik felt his jaw clenching as his eyes searched for the culprit. He looked over to the mailroom desk and saw an anxious-looking Lucas. The young man took quick strides around to the front, waiting for Amelia to meet him there. Amelia looked at Lucas and then to Erik. She tightened her grip on his arm and proceeded to walk over to Lucas.

As the two of them talked, Erik said nothing. He gazed into space and thought about what Amelia had just done. Then he looked over at her, not hearing a single word she was saying. Her hair was getting so long. It was in the middle of her back; a beautiful caramel color. He just watched her talk to Lucas, enjoying the view of her profile. Her eyes looked bluer in this light. Perhaps the color changed along with her mood as well. It seemed like whenever she looked at him, green was the dominant color.

Finally, there obviously was nothing more to say; an awkward silence filled the void. Erik took the moment to place his hand on the small of Amelia's back. The action had a protective feeling to it. All three of them could sense it.

"Shall we get started?" he asked.

Amelia looked up at him and her cheeks flushed faintly. He noticed that her eyes suddenly looked green and smiled slightly.

"Yes," she practically whispered.

To Erik's delight, Lucas didn't accompany them. He had rather grudgingly handed over the day's stack of mail and said nothing. The couple split up the envelopes and put them in the correct order. The route didn't seem to take long; perhaps there just wasn't as much mail today. But Erik felt like it didn't last long enough. He was trying to think of ways to prolong their time together. Before he could think of any, Amelia took a hold of his free hand. She laced her fingers with his and looked straight ahead. Erik glanced over at her. He could tell that she was trying to keep her face emotionless. It was strained. And cute.

Erik lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips along the back of it. Amelia's heart and stomach leapt simultaneously. She knew her breathing had to be incredibly loud and obvious. A surge of heat spread through her whole body, and an extensive amount halted at her cheeks. But she tried to keep a straight face and continued to look forward.

"It's noon," Erik stated.

"I'm not really hungry," Amelia replied, glancing at him.

"Nor am I. To the usual practice room?"

Amelia smiled. "Yes."

Hands still grasped, fingers still laced, the couple went into the practice room that they always worked in.

"Oh, I don't have my violin," Amelia stated, but sat down on the piano bench anyways.

"Well, you can think of the notes, and I will play them," Erik poised his hands to play.

Amelia stared at the keys, thinking of their opera. They really didn't have very many songs; just one full one and a few pieces of others. She wanted to start a new song, a completely different one.

"Alright, so Little Lotte has fallen in love with her angel of music. How about a song that she sings alone, musing over her feelings for him?"

Erik nodded. "It could be more… intimate. Perhaps she could be daydreaming of being together with him."

"Yes! That's perfect!" Amelia agreed.

They started with her emotions and worked their way to the score. It was a bit darker than the other songs they wrote together – or, started to write. It had almost a sensual sound to it. The couple decided that there should be some type of instrument solo in the middle of the song. Amelia suggested that a piano should have the solo. But Erik shook his head a little, thinking.

"Actually, I think a violin solo would be perfect," he said.

Amelia made a reluctant face. "Really? I'm not sure…"

"Trust me. I can hear it in my head already." Erik closed his eyes. "A higher emotional solo, I think." His lids remained over his eyes, concealing the beautiful darkness underneath. Amelia stared at his masked face. His skin tone was a few shades darker than hers. He had very angular features; she loved his jaw line especially. His lips held just the right amount of fullness: not too thin, but not too big, either. They looked very – her stomach leapt at this realization – kissable.

"Yes," she whispered.

Erik opened his eyes, revealing his russet irises. Amelia had inched very close to him while she had viewed his visage. She pulled away quickly, embarrassed for him to see how close she had gotten. And they started writing the solo. It was more of a rough draft because they were using a piano instead of a violin, but they had the feeling of it.

It had been hours since they started and almost simultaneously, two stomachs growled with hunger. Erik looked the music in front of him – the music they wrote. He chewed at the callus on his right index finger. Amelia's hand took his right and lowered it from his mouth. He looked over at her and smiled.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She kept her hand in his. "Yes."

"Do you want to come back?"

"I'll bring my violin so you can tell me how the high emotional solo should be played," Amelia smiled.

They walked to the dining hall hand in hand.

* * *

Giselle and Colette sat in their shared room. It had been silent for quite a while and Colette was getting bored. But she knew she shouldn't say a thing until Giselle started a conversation. She would talk when she was ready. Not that Colette really cared. They were just friends because Colette knew that Giselle was a very influential woman.

Their relationship was strange. It seemed to be an 'I'll-help-you-if-you-help-me' affiliation. Colette wasn't sure how she really 'helped' Giselle, but Giselle didn't ostracize her like other females. She, however, helped Colette. If a man wanted Giselle, but she didn't want him, Colette got to be with him. But here lied the problem. There had never been a situation where Giselle wanted a man and he didn't want her. Never. This was quite the dilemma.

"What is his problem?" Giselle finally asked. Colette wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical or not, so she didn't answer.

"I – I just don't get it."

"Well," Colette started, eyeing her friend to see if it was alright for her to speak, "it seems as though they really like each other. I've seen them together a lot lately. You probably just came into the picture at the wrong time…"

"I don't care when I come into the picture! A man _never_ turns me down!"

Colette became silent.

Giselle fell onto her pillow. She began thinking about this _girl_ that Erik liked. What was her name? Emily? No… Amelia. Yes, that's her name. Giselle evaluated her mental picture of this girl. Her hair was nice – long, caramel colored. She was sure that Erik was attracted to her eyes as well. But… that was all that stood out to her. Amelia had no fascinating assets; nothing about her was quite so stunning.

She sighed. It was interesting how she could not be so biased while appraising her competition. She assessed her current rivalries the way a man would; finding her beauties and her flaws. But what was so enthralling about Amelia that Erik wouldn't even _look_ at Giselle? This question bothered her to her core.

"What should I do?" Giselle turned on her side, facing Colette.

Her friend looked up in surprise. This was the first time Giselle had ever asked for her advice.

"Well…Do you still want him? Is it worth it?"

Giselle made a noise. "How can you ask that? Of _course_ it's worth it!"

"Alright. Have you thought of making him jealous?"

"How can I make him jealous if he won't even look at me?"

Colette said nothing and thought. Giselle seemed to really like him. It was strange; she rarely loved the men she was with. She was usually attracted to their money, looks, or their power. But Erik Destler really didn't have any of those traits. Well, maybe he was a little handsome, but half his face was covered by a mask for heaven's sake!

"Why do you like him so much?" Colette was genuinely curious.

"He's… unique. And he's the first to not throw himself at me. And I – I've been wondering what's under that mask of his…"

"Have you thought about breaking them up?" The thought went through Colette's head and came out of her mouth before she realized what had happened.

Giselle suddenly sat up and stared at her friend. Her mouth was slightly open, as if astonished that Colette could come up with something so deceitful. And then her face twisted into a devious smile.

"I know exactly what to do."

* * *

Erik and Amelia sat side by side, eating their dinner. The feelings each harbored for the other seemed to be seeping out. Everyone at the table could sense their emotions. Caitlin especially noticed these changes. She could barely contain her excitement. They had finally gotten back together! Well, in Amelia's case it wasn't necessarily _back_ together. But that was beside the point. Amelia was falling for him all over again and Caitlin found that extremely romantic and passionate of Erik. She smiled at the two of them.

Amelia looked up from her food. "What?" she asked of Caitlin's expression.

"Nothing," she looked away and smiled.

Amelia sighed and continued eating. But a pleasant surprise slid itself into her left hand: Erik's hand. She felt like she was going to float away from all of the butterflies in her stomach. Feeling the blush on her cheeks, she glanced at him. The mask hid his face from her in this view. She didn't like that. However, one glorious dark eye was staring at her. That she liked.

Something caught Amelia's eye that she hadn't noticed before. Erik's right hand was preoccupied with holding hers. He was eating with his left hand. Did he write with his left hand also? She couldn't remember which hand he wrote music with. She paid attention to… other things.

"Are you left-handed?" Amelia asked between bites.

"I'm ambidextrous," Erik replied, thinking it to be unimportant.

"Really? That's very interesting. So, you can write with both hands equally well?"

Erik stopped eating. "Well, both are at the same level, although that level is quite low. I have horrible handwriting. But you knew–" he cut himself off.

He was about to say that she knew why he didn't have good handwriting. He never went to school because he was in the traveling fair; which she had forgotten about. Amelia gave him a strange look.

"You knew that because… of my music, right?"

"I actually never thought your written music looked too bad," she shrugged.

Amelia resumed eating, but Erik didn't feel hungry any more. He let her finish her dinner, but still held onto her hand. When the food had disappeared from her plate, he stood, bringing her along. They said their goodbyes to their friends and headed to the practice room. Both were eager to work on their song.

So eager, in fact, that Amelia forgot to retrieve her violin from her room. Once they reached the practice room, she sighed in frustration.

"I can't believe I forgot it again! I have to get it; I really want to play this solo."

As she stood up to leave, Erik gently grabbed her arm.

"When you return, I want to play something for you," he tried to make his eyes convey a subliminal message to her. A message that said 'a song declaring my love for you.' He had decided that he wanted to play the song he wrote for her, _to_ her.

For Amelia, his eyes conveyed no message. They simply burned into hers and she found herself going weak in the knees. She inched forward, closer to his face. Her eyelids drooped shut, afraid to see what would happen. With sight gone, every other sense was heightened; especially touch. Erik's perfect lips ever so lightly brushed hers. The act occurred much faster and was surprisingly softer than she had anticipated.

There was a loud and curt knock at the door. Amelia's body jerked slightly from the sudden noise, and she gently pulled away from Erik. Two sets of eyes glanced over at the door. There was a small window on it, but neither could see anyone outside the room. Erik stood and opened the door to reveal an empty hallway. He sighed in frustration and returned to Amelia.

"Well, I should go get my violin," she said softly.

"I'll be here," he smiled.

She left and Erik sat on the piano bench by himself. He took a few deep breaths, trying to stop the adrenaline. Finally he had tasted her luscious lips! It had been so long since the last time, and he was very angry that they were interrupted yet again. It was strange how that worked out; every time something started to happen between them, some other event would spoil it.

Was that an omen? Erik's brow furrowed at that thought. No, it did not mean that they weren't meant to be together. It only meant that they had to overcome a few obstacles to get where they wanted to be. Where _he_ wanted to be. Amelia did want this, too, didn't she? An unfamiliar knot twisted inside his stomach. Why was he suddenly having doubts about this whole thing? Of _course_ Amelia wanted this, wanted him. She had just kissed him, didn't she?

He shook his head and faced the piano. He began playing the first few measures of his song for Amelia. His heart gave a few irregular palpitations and he smiled to himself. That was more like it. He became so consumed with his music that he did not hear someone enter the room. Well, he had barely sensed the person in the back of his mind. But the only person who would come in that room while he was playing was Amelia, so he didn't stop.

He sang all of the lyrics while playing. God, he hoped Amelia was there and it wasn't just his imagination. When the song came to its end, Erik didn't turn around to see if she was there. He was slightly embarrassed that he just played it for her. What would she think? Before he could turn around, a hand reached in front of the left side of his face. The fingers gently moved his eyelid down and he did the same with his right. Her hands pulled his shoulders so he would turn around.

His eyes remained closed. And then she kissed him. Her lips felt slightly cooler than he remembered. But he returned the kiss just as fervently as she. His lips parted and her cool tongue slid into his mouth. He hesitated. Had Amelia always been this forward? Before he had a chance to think further, he heard a cry outside of the door.

Erik opened his eyes and looked in that direction. The door was ajar. _Who…?_ His gaze returned to the woman he was kissing. It was not Amelia. Erik jerked backward, pushing her away as well. The woman stood upright and gazed at him, a small smirk on her now swollen lips.

It was Giselle.

* * *

**Juicy! Please, please review!! **

**By the way, the song that Erik and Amelia are writing now is Dark Waltz by Hayley Westenra. Sorry I am not creative to come up with songs on my own. I think it's better anyways because you all can listen to it on your own and know what I'm talking about!**


	15. Point of View

**Although it may seem like this took a while to update, I wrote this chapter so fast! Sometimes I just have to be in the 'writing mood', you know? Well, I was in that mood a lot! I really hope you all enjoy this chapter, and hopefully I can get another one up sooner rather than later!**

* * *

**Point of View**

Amelia curled up into a ball in her bed. It was probably about two in the morning now. She'd run straight to the dormitory from the practice room. When other girls started turning in for bed, Amelia had managed to stop sobbing and just thought. The situation replayed itself in her mind yet again…

_She and Erik had kissed. It was a very light and soft kiss. But a knock at the door had interrupted them. Amelia left to get her violin. She walked through the corridors to her dormitory and retrieved it. On her way back, she passed the mailroom. Lucas was standing casually next to the front desk. He looked like he had been waiting for her. She thought nothing of it and smiled as she passed. _

_But being Lucas, he had to stop her and talk. They talked about random things and happenings in the Opera House. Amelia knew that she was being a bit rude while speaking to him and cutting his words short. But she yearned to get back to Erik in the practice room…_

"_Did you hear about the party being held for Monsieur François?"_

_This caught Amelia off guard. "What?"_

_Lucas suddenly became excited in knowing some gossip she didn't. "Yes, apparently his birthday is coming up and the whole Opera is throwing him a party."_

"_When is it?" she asked._

"_Some time in the next few weeks," Lucas replied, slowing down. "Amelia, I was wondering if you would accompany me to the party?"_

_She hesitated. If anything, she would go to the party with Erik; if he wanted to go, that is. But she didn't want to be rude to Lucas. She knew that he really liked her. Is false hope better than crushing the hope?_

"_I'll think about it," she replied quickly. "But I have to go now. I'll talk to you later." Amelia felt horrible for doing this to him._

_She nearly jogged down the corridor after realizing how much Lucas had hindered her. As she neared the practice room, Amelia thought she heard the piano. Perhaps Erik was going over the solo again. The music had died down by the time she reached the door. But what confused her was the fact that the door was open. She looked inside to see Erik and Giselle kissing. Their kisses were much more passionate than the one she and Erik had shared. She cried out and ran back in the direction of her dormitory, tears streaming down her face._

Amelia sighed softly. She'd been very quiet while the other girls slept, but she hadn't even felt tired. She felt miserable. There had to be a reason why Erik kissed Giselle. Her heart twisted painfully. The reason was what she was afraid of. Had Erik accepted Giselle's invitation without Amelia knowing? None of this made sense. Amelia saw Erik reject her invitation. And he had clearly chosen Amelia over Giselle… hadn't he?

All of the options and choices were giving her a headache. Amelia finally decided to close her eyes and try to get some sleep. She wondered if she should pretend to be sick the next morning. Avoiding the situation wouldn't make it go away, she knew that. But she also knew she didn't want to see Erik and Giselle eating breakfast together. Plus, her eyes had to be incredibly swollen. Perhaps she could use that in her sick act…

The next morning, Amelia's plan to pretend to be sick really wasn't all that hard. She felt horrible. Not only was she emotionally drained, her entire body felt fatigued. Caitlin came to her dormitory to walk with her to breakfast. Amelia kept her face away from her friend and told her she didn't feel well. Caitlin patted her on the back and went to breakfast alone.

Amelia wondered if she should bother taking lessons from Erik anymore. It would be awkward, especially for her. She suddenly felt depressed. What about their opera? They probably wouldn't continue that either. She knew that she didn't want to see him for a while, at least not until she was prepared. A sob escaped her lips. She would never be prepared. Why did he do this to her? She thought he might have liked her. And it went without saying that she liked him.

Amelia refused to cry again. She knew she already looked horrible. Perhaps more sleep would be good. She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes, hoping a dreamless sleep would follow.

* * *

Erik woke up, still groggy. He had barely gotten any sleep the night before and he felt horrible. He glanced at the clock on the side table. Eight o'clock in the morning. He always seemed to wake up at this hour regardless of how much sleep he'd gotten. Leaving his mask on the side table, he went over to the small mirror. Erik stared at himself. Had his deformity even crossed Amelia's mind when they kissed? It seemed like she had completely forgotten about it. But it would have come up eventually. He knew that her curiosity couldn't be smothered forever.

Erik returned to his bed and sat on the edge. He held his mask in his hands, staring at it. The mask glowed eerily in the dim light his grotto had. Erik squinted slightly as he looked at its contours. It was strange; the mask had the same contours as the left side of his face. He'd never actually looked at the mask before, he only wore it.

He sighed and returned the mask to its rightful position: his face. What was he going to do? Amelia must have been the one who saw them and made that heart wrenching noise. That sound kept echoing in his mind. He looked down, as if ashamed. What had he done? How could this have happened? This was all Giselle's fault… Erik's hands tightened into fists. They had gotten so far! He and Amelia had shared their first kiss! Well, it was their first for her, at least. But Giselle had to ruin all of that. Erik completely despised her at that moment.

Erik's mind rewound back to the incident, remembering what happened after the kiss.

_He looked over at the door after hearing the cry. And then his eyes returned to the woman he was kissing. It was not Amelia. He practically felt the bile rise in his throat when he realized it was Giselle. Erik's body jerked back and he pushed her away as well. She was panting ever so lightly from their passionate kissing. Her painted lips were smudged and swollen. They held a satisfied smirk. This made Erik sick._

_He wiped his bottom lip with his index finger. Her lipstick had stained his lips as well. Erik looked up at her with hatred. "What have you done?" he whispered angrily. Although it was a rhetorical question, Giselle opened her mouth to answer. Erik stood up abruptly and glared at her. She closed her mouth. His jaw clenched. Then he turned and walked swiftly out of the open door. _

_Erik made his way through numerous corridors. Was it just him, or were more people staring at him than usual? His shoulders hunched, trying to make himself smaller. Erik turned a corner and found a group of young aspiring ballerinas. Each young girl's eyes widened and gawked at him. He felt his heart begin to pound. Why was he afraid of these girls? What could they do to him? Erik shoved past the group and headed for the stairs to his home._

_As each step descended him further underground, Erik wondered why all of the stares had bothered him so much. He had received much worse than stares before. Was he afraid that now Amelia wasn't going to protect him it was going to go back to the way it was before? Erik shook his head. Even if Amelia wouldn't protect him, Marie would. And why would he need to be defended anyways? _

_He could not get captured again; he was in a safe environment. Wasn't he? No, that was ridiculous. Of course he was. The entire time he lived here, he had never felt threatened by such fears. He'd lived at the Opera for… how long had it been? About two years. Erik sighed. Had it really been that long? He'd been with Amelia for only half of it, and through the rest he was trying to win her back. Now he was sure he had lost her._

_At last Erik reached the end of his descent, and to his surprise, he wasn't even out of breath. Perhaps he was finally getting used to all of those stairs. But that wasn't the end of his journey. Erik walked a bit more through the murky caves. He knew the labyrinth so well it almost felt like he could see in the dark. A dim light met him at the water's edge. He kept a gas lamp on the cave wall so he could see the gondola. Erik stepped into the boat, making it wobble slightly. He used the tall pole to push the vessel along. When he reached his home, Erik jumped from the gondola. Surprised again, he realized that he wasn't tired from pulling more than his weight across quite a few meters of water._

_The surprise of his athleticism wore off and depression set in. He never would have thought that the day he kissed Amelia again would end like this. Erik sat down on the hard cave floor. He removed his mask and tossed it away from him. Its clatter echoed in the grotto, making Erik realize how lonesome he was._

_After tinkering with his piano fruitlessly, he went to bed. He tossed and turned for hours on his old mattress. Erik's internal clock woke him up after only four hours of sleep. Curse his mind for being so methodical._

Erik yawned. He was still tired, but knew that he would never be able to fall asleep again. He wasn't really one for naps, especially after just waking up. But what was he to do? He knew that he couldn't face Amelia after that incident. Besides, he wasn't hungry, and he knew for a fact that Amelia wouldn't be at breakfast either. That was just the way she worked: avoiding the whole situation. Erik's lips curled ever so slightly. He liked that he still knew how she functioned.

He took the candle on the side table and used it to light various others on the candelabras. Erik turned up a few gas lamps as well. He stood at the water's edge and looked at his home. After a few moments, he realized that he was doing the exact same thing Amelia had once done. The memory was vivid in his mind. It was the day he had accidentally bumped a lever and made a backdrop fall on the stage during rehearsal. It was the day that he had walked into their home and saw Amelia standing just as he was now. He knew that she had been thinking about the grotto's lack of hominess. And she was right.

But now that he had lived there for another year, he'd grown to like it. Of course, it had attained more furniture than the last time Amelia saw it. Erik had been able to go to the market a few times within the last year. Marie helped him buy the side table and a few candelabras. Coming across the piano, however, was much luckier. Charles had pulled a few strings for him to attain it. The Opera had some old pianos that were going to be thrown out. The music department had received new ones from the patron, so the older ones were of no use. He smiled at the memory of him and Peter hauling the piano down the thousands of flights of stairs.

The gondola was a different story. Erik had actually stolen it. One night he went out to the Seine River and found a drunken gondolier. The man tried to talk to him, but his speech was too slurred. He soon passed out with a bottle in his hand. Erik seized the moment and pushed boat to a door in the back of the Opera. Surprisingly no one ever used that entry, and Erik started to use it more often. He had made a trap door inside of the entrance to get to the catacombs more easily.

So, now he had his old piano, his small round mattress covered in a mess of black sheets, and the bulky cushioned chair. The side table housed the little clock, a few candles, and of course the velvet box. There were a few books full of blank staffs and others with completely blank pages inside the drawer. Pages of both were scattered all around his home: across the piano, on the floor, on the side table. Writing utensils were also strewn along the piano and in the table's drawers.

Erik knew that these distractions couldn't last much longer. Reliving old memories and memorizing the contents of his home wouldn't protect him from the horrible truth. But he didn't want to face any of it yet. So, he picked up the book with the blank pages in it and a thin charcoal pencil. He drew Amelia.

* * *

Lucas ate in silence. He sat with his father, other postmen, and a few younger stagehands. This was his usual group for eating in the Opera Populaire's dining hall. The first thing he noticed upon entering the commons was that Amelia was absent. His eyes squinted at his bland breakfast. He was so pitiable for an eighteen-year-old, pining over a sixteen-year-old girl who didn't want to be with him.

After eating some more, Lucas realized a second thing. Erik Destler was not there, either. His stomach twisted nervously. He swallowed another mouthful of oatmeal and glanced around the dining hall again. Giselle Leandros, however, was present and seated at her usual table. Perhaps he should speak with her about… No. She requested that he not talk to her in public. He wasn't completely sure about the reason, but he didn't really care. Lucas sighed. Perhaps he could catch her on her way out.

He observed Giselle, waiting for her to get up. Once she did, Lucas stood as well. His father looked up at him quizzically.

"What are you doing, Lucas?" he asked.

"I'm going to go back to the post room. I'm kind of tired." Lucas was a horrible liar, but part of that was the truth. He hadn't slept much the previous night.

He followed Giselle and her friend down a few corridors. The two young women parted ways, and Lucas lurched forward.

"Giselle!" he half whispered, half yelled.

The Greek goddess stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn around. Her arms crossed as she said, "What do you want, mail boy?"

Lucas felt his jaw clench. He was no _boy_. But this was no time to get quick-tempered. He let out a breath and walked closer to her.

"What happened yesterday?" he asked, tone suddenly soft.

Giselle slowly turned around to face him. Her piercingly green eyes looked him over. Then a smirk appeared on her lips.

"A kiss," she replied simply.

Giselle turned on her heel and continued walking. Lucas stood in the same spot, dumbfounded. Who had kissed whom? He knew Giselle had taken some part in this, but he had no idea what 'this' even was. So, he thought back to the entire scene from yesterday, trying to remember what had happened…

_Amelia and Erik were walking toward the mailroom, arm in arm. Lucas felt the jealousy in the pit of his stomach. He took a few breaths and waited for them to near. But the couple stopped walking and stared at each other. The look was same in both of their eyes. Lucas couldn't handle it when he saw that they were leaning toward each other for a first kiss. "Amelia!" he practically shouted._

_The two jumped and pulled away from each other. When Erik looked over at him angrily, it felt like a victory. Perhaps this could work out for him. Lucas walked to the front of the desk and waited for Amelia to meet him there. To his disappointment, she pulled her teacher along. _

_He struck up a small conversation. But the whole time he and Amelia talked, Erik just stared at her. After a little while, Lucas couldn't think of anything else to say. There was a small silence and then Erik placed his hand on Amelia's back. Lucas could practically feel a sense of protection radiating from him. _

"_Shall we get started?" Erik looked down at Amelia._

_He noticed her blush and whisper in the positive._

_Lucas handed the day's stack of mail to them and said nothing. He knew that this battle was lost. Amelia was obviously dazzled by him. The couple walked away, sorting the envelopes and talking amiably. He returned to his seat in the back of the post room, defeated._

_The day had dragged on after that. When he wasn't sorting the mail, Lucas sulked. His father seemed to notice his lack of enthusiasm, but didn't say anything to him. Richard knew when to leave him alone. Lucas respected that about his father. After a few hours of doing some work and sitting around, someone came to the front desk. He noticed the person standing there, but he took his time to greet them. Lucas turned from the stack of mail he was organizing to face the person._

_Giselle Leandros stood there, looking excitedly impatient. The expression was a strange combination. Lucas was struck by her beauty for the first time. Her dark hair looked incredibly silky and ended a little past her shoulders. She wore an elaborate green dress that matched her eyes brilliantly. Her lips and cheeks were perfectly rouged…_

"_What?" Giselle said edgily. _

_Lucas shook his head. "Nothing. What are you doing here?" He hoped the question didn't sound rude._

_She looked at him for a moment. "Do you have feelings for that messenger girl named Amelia?"_

_His lips pursed and he began to retort, but she interrupted him. "I thought so. Listen, she and Erik Destler do not belong together. Do you agree?"_

"_Yes," he mumbled._

"_I knew you would. How about you do me a favor?"_

_Lucas looked at her for a moment before answering. "What do you mean?"_

"_Amelia will probably walk by here at some point this evening with her violin. All I want you to do is… distract her a little. You two talk a lot, don't you?" He nodded. "Well, take your time in talking with her tonight."_

_Giselle waited for a moment, perhaps for an answer. But Lucas remained quiet, brow furrowed in thought. She squinted her eyes for a moment._

"_Do it for you and Amelia." He looked up just in time to see her walking away._

_So he talked with her for a long time. He could tell that she was eager to return to her original course. Thinking quickly, he had decided to ask her to the upcoming party. In that short amount of time that he had tried to gain her trust back, he had expected her to like him. But she hadn't said no – that was a good thing._

_After Amelia left, Lucas sat at the mailroom desk for a while. He suddenly felt like he had betrayed her for doing what Giselle had told him to do. But what harm could a simple lengthened chat do? It had actually seemed a little beneficial to him. So, what could have happened in those short few minutes? Nothing too drastic, he had hoped. He had gone to bed that night and realized that hoping wasn't the best form of action. _

And so here he stood, just as baffled as before. Except now he had a new piece of information: a kiss. He sat down at the mailroom desk and thought for a moment. What good did this detail do him? Lucas scowled and leaned back. Then, suddenly he believed that it did do some good.

Had Giselle kissed Erik in that short time that he had distracted Amelia? And then she found out and was upset about it. That explained why she wasn't at breakfast. But why would Erik kiss Giselle? For the moment, he didn't care about that small detail; this new theory was enough for him. Lucas jumped up and began sprinting down a corridor. He passed his father along the way and tried to quickly explain that he was leaving for a short time. He was going to find Amelia and comfort her. Perhaps she would finally get over her teacher!

* * *

Giselle smiled to herself as she walked down the hall. Her plan was turning out quite well. The only thing that bothered her was the fact that Erik hadn't been at breakfast. She didn't mind not seeing the Amelia girl. Erik probably needed a day or so to get over her. He seemed rather angry at what she had done. But Giselle knew that once Amelia stopped returning his feelings, he would come to her.

She made her way down a different corridor, altering her course. She had just talked to the mail boy for a moment after getting rid of Colette. Anxiety had practically been radiating off of him. But thankfully she had brushed him off rather quickly. Giselle wanted to be alone for a while. She made a few more turns and found her destination.

If she didn't desire company, Giselle would go to one of the many theatres. She usually preferred them to be empty, but a performance or rehearsal wouldn't bother her. The audience seating was darkened anyways. This particular theatre happened to be vacant. Smiling at her luck, Giselle entered and found a random seat. She looked up at the stage. There were a few gas lamps throughout the auditorium and a small amount of stage lights had been lit. The red curtains glowed in the dim light.

Now it was time to think of her current situation. Giselle crossed her legs and placed her chin in her palm. She repeated her earlier thoughts. Erik needed more than twenty-four hours to get over Amelia; that was obvious. When he realizes that he wants Giselle, however, _that_ was when she could have some fun. But she wouldn't let her mind jump into the future. She wanted to rewind and admire her work.

_The whole situation started months ago. The first time she saw Erik Destler was at L'Automne Café. She had just gotten together with François and they were openly showing their fondness of each other. François was in his thirties and was the manager of the Opera Populaire. He was on the top of her list of men to be with…_

Giselle shook her head. She and François had gone their separate ways months ago. Why was she thinking about him now? She took a breath and let her mind continue.

_She had noticed him when her eyes scanned the café, wondering who was looking at her. She had been quite loud; she wanted attention, after all. He seemed to be annoyed, like many of the other customers of the restaurant. But there was something about him that she was attracted to. He seemed mysterious with his mask and dark eyes. He was rather young, she had to admit that. But the unmasked side of his face was ruggedly handsome. Giselle couldn't help herself from fantasizing what it would be like if he was hers._

_But of course, she pictured being with many men. She usually was with the ones she imagined herself with, so this didn't seem like such a problem. Erik Destler was now on her list, right after François and Maurice. _

_Giselle skipped ahead a few months, passing over her relationship with Maurice. Now that she was finished with the cellist, she was ready for Erik. She rarely saw him around the Opera House, so she had to encourage fate a little. _

She smiled at the memory of harassing Charles into making Erik observe her lessons…

"_Do you want to be disposed of?" she hissed._

_Charles looked at her, alarmed. He knew that she had connections with Monsieur François, and he wasn't going to push his luck._

"_I didn't think so. Now, I want you to listen carefully. Erik Destler will be at my next flute lesson. Perhaps you should forget to come." Giselle knew she was asking for too much, but she knew he would break soon._

"_Erik is not qualified to teach a flutist!" Charles cried, exasperated._

_Giselle rolled her eyes. "Fine. He will observe, then. Just make sure he is there. My lesson will be at six o'clock on Thursday."_

_She found out that Erik taught Amelia Simon at that time. She wasn't sure exactly who this girl was, but she was his only student. 'Not anymore' her exact thoughts had been._

"_But Erik teaches at that time –"_

"_Charles."_

_He hesitated. "I will see you Thursday at six o'clock."_

_The lesson hadn't been exactly what she had hoped it would be. Giselle had tried to show off a bit, trying to catch his attention. He had seemed distracted throughout the lesson. She realized that Erik had cringed at every note she played. After the lesson was over, he had bolted out of the door. She packed up her flute and looked up at Charles. He looked nervous, as if it were his fault that Erik wasn't impressed by her._

_Giselle sighed angrily. "Erik will not be observing any more of my lessons."_

_She actually heard Charles exhale. _

_We'll just have to see each other another way, she thought._

_She left the practice room, determined to find Erik. He couldn't have gotten far. _

"_Erik?" she thought she heard his voice down the next corridor. She followed what she thought was his voice, but her search was fruitless. After a few moments, she gave up the investigation._

_A month or so passed. One evening Giselle decided to take the initiative. She was going to give Erik the invitation to be with her. It had been too long since she had a suitor. The next morning, Giselle did what she usually did for an invitation. She walked by Erik when she knew he was looking. She gazed at him and swayed her hips. But he did nothing. He didn't follow her with his mouth hanging open like she thought he would. Erik had deliberately turned away from her to look at Amelia. _

_The couple left the dining hall, leaving Giselle to her thoughts. She and Colette had returned to their room. When her thoughts got her nowhere, she finally turned to her comrade. _

"_What should I do?" That was the first time she had ever asked anyone that._

_Colette had offered a few useless suggestions. They exchanged a few more words and then both became silent. Giselle began to wonder if she would ever get Erik… until Colette spit out the most brilliant idea she ever had._

"_Have you thought of breaking them up?"_

_Once her ally made the suggestion, an entire scheme began to construct itself in her head. She smiled when she realized that it would work perfectly._

"_I know exactly what to do."_

_Giselle spoke to the mail boy briefly, getting to the point. She persuaded him to elongate his conversation with Amelia. Then she went to the practice room in which the couple had been occupying for the past month. When she looked in the window, what she saw made her blood boil. Erik and Amelia were sitting on the piano bench, leaning toward each other. Leaning toward each other for a kiss. Her fist had reached up and knocked forcefully on the door before she knew what she had done. Giselle ran down the hall and around a corner before she heard the door open._

_Then she heard Amelia leave the practice room and head in the opposite direction. This was her chance! As she made her way to the room, she heard a beautiful melody. Giselle looked through the window on the door. Erik was playing the piano. She smiled slightly. His eyes were closed as he played, and then he began to sing. His voice was just as ruggedly handsome as he was. She entered the practice room without him noticing._

_When he finished the song, Giselle felt like crying. She pretended that he wrote the song just for her. She walked over to the piano bench and stood behind him. After closing his eye, she turned him around. He was so cute with his eyes closed, head tilted toward her. She dipped down and kissed him. The thing that made her heart flutter was the fact that he kissed her back. Then she slid her tongue through his parted lips. He hesitated. In that moment they heard a cry outside of the door. Right on cue, she thought._

_Erik broke the kiss to look over at the door. Confusion flitted across his features and then he turned to look at her. His entire body wrenched away from her; he even pushed her away as well. "What have you done?" he asked._

_She didn't know why, but she was about to answer. Erik glared at her, and the saying 'if looks could kill' crossed her mind. He nearly ran out of the practice room._

Giselle sighed. Now all she had to do was wait.

* * *

Amelia was awakened to someone gently shaking her. Her eyes opened to find one of the girls that lived in the dormitory with her. She looked up at the girl in confusion.

"What?" her voice sounded raspy.

"There's someone here to see you," she replied.

Amelia's stomach dropped. Could it be Erik? "Who is it?"

"I think it's the mail boy." She felt disappointed and grateful at the same time. "Should I send him away?"

Amelia blinked a few times. "No…No, just give me a few seconds."

She stood from her bed and went to the mirror on a wall. She ran her fingers through her hair and made sure her face didn't look too horrible. Sleep must have helped the swelling of her eyes to go down; it wasn't too bad any more. Lucas came through the open door, and the girl left. They were alone. There was a moment of silence in which Lucas and Amelia gazed at each other.

He pushed his auburn hair out of his eyes. "Are you alright?" Lucas looked genuinely concerned, although she had a feeling that he wasn't worried about her health.

Tears rushed into her eyes. "No," she sobbed. Amelia hurried to him and he took a few steps forward. Her face crashed into his chest and she cried there. His arms enveloped her; one around her back, the other embracing the back of her head. He gently stroked her hair. Amelia's body shook with sobs. Lucas tightened his hold on her, wishing he could release the pain from her heart. And hopefully the love that was still there, too.

* * *

**I'm so sorry if this seems like a filler chapter to anyone. I wanted to write everyone's version of what happened, and include a little insight of each character while I was at it. And you better get used to that angst, because there's more of it coming! Don't worry, though, fluff will follow. I know, I know, I love that good old fluff, too. It's my favorite thing to write. But angst is my second favorite. :) **

**Please Review!  
**


	16. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

Days passed.

At first Erik tried to locate Amelia so that they could straighten this whole thing out. For two days, he went to the dining hall at every meal, hoping to see her there. She was always absent. Discouraged, he ceased his trips to the cafeteria completely. If he was hungry – which he rarely was – Erik would go out.

He ended up going to L'Automne Café quite often. That was his place to think. He always went at odd times, praying for the café to be vacant. Once or twice he was lucky, but other times he had to find a table in a corner to evade the stares. Eventually Erik noticed that the same people were there when he was. He realized that they went to the restaurant just so they could stare at him.

Now, Erik avoided all things social. He stayed in the bowels of the Opera House alone. An odd sense of depression was overwhelming him. He'd never felt like this before. He spent his waking hours drawing, composing, and listening. He drew Amelia, the things of the beautiful days; the days when Amelia was his. He composed lullabies, operettas, solos… just whatever came to his mind. Erik wrote what emotions he felt. He listened to everything he could possibly hear: the dripping of water in the caves, the creaks of the Opera House above him. Sometimes he thought he heard music from the theatres.

While he felt like he was decaying in some ways, in others he felt he was flourishing. Erik created more passageways and trapdoors. These projects made it easier to get where he wanted to go. They were also just ways to keep his mind off of certain things.

Erik noticed a change within the passing days. Not only was he getting thinner from not eating, he was also gaining muscle. He'd had a growth spurt a while ago, finally growing into his long limbs. And now, all the work of running up and down stairs, using the gondola, and building passageways… was paying off. He became aware of this change when he was bathing one evening.

His arm was bent, hand behind his head. Erik glanced over at his arm and noticed a lean muscle bulging slightly underneath his skin. He stretched his arms out in front of him. Sure enough, there was a symmetrical muscle on the other arm. Two more protruded from each of his forearms. He looked down at his chest and stomach and saw lightly defined muscles there as well.

Erik sighed at that memory. It seemed to be the only good that had come from this whole ordeal. Correction: it _was_ the only good. Now it was about noon. His empty stomach snarled with the pains of hunger. He bit his lip when he realized that he hadn't eaten in two days. Erik no longer had his meager stash of food that he kept down there. Perhaps just this once he could return to the surface for some nourishment.

As this internal debate ensued, Erik failed to notice the extra presence in his grotto. The sound of footsteps broke his reverie. He stood up and faced the direction of the sound. Suddenly, he wished that he had something to protect himself with…

"Erik?" a female voice echoed slightly.

He let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Caitlin?"

More footsteps and then he saw her. She was drenched. For the first time in a week, Erik had to hold back laughter. Caitlin's eyes narrowed and he removed his smile.

"You ought to have two boats," she sniffed.

He sighed and sat back down. Seeing her made connections to Amelia and he felt his heart twisting uncomfortably. Erik looked down at his hands; the horrific depression was making itself at home. Caitlin immediately felt the change in his demeanor and decided to get to the point.

She stood in front of him. "Tell me that you didn't kiss Giselle."

He didn't respond. Abruptly, her hand collided with his left cheek. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

_Did she just slap me?_

"Why would you kiss Giselle Leandros?"

"I didn't mean to," he mumbled.

Caitlin exhaled impatiently. "How did you not mean to?"

"I thought she was Amelia."

"Do you want to play this game with me, Erik?" No response. "Alright. How _on earth_ could you think she was Amelia?"

She watched his eyes become glassy and his breathing accelerate. His lips pursed, trying to fight back the sob that was about to escape.

"Just tell me what happened," Caitlin said softly. She sat down next to him and touched his arm. Erik took a few moments to gather himself. Then he explained everything. How he and Amelia had kissed. How Giselle had slipped in when he was alone. How she closed his eyes and kissed him. How he heard the cry outside the door…

"What have I done?" he whispered once he finished. Caitlin remained silent; sure it was a rhetorical question. But even if it wasn't, she still wouldn't know how to respond. Then Erik's stomach growled and the sound actually echoed.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

After a few moments of hesitation, he mumbled, "Two days."

Caitlin sighed and rubbed her temples. "Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?"

"In all honesty, I believe death is better than this."

**

* * *

**Amelia sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. She was in the mail room sorting envelopes, and Lucas sat across from her doing the same. She looked up and smiled slightly at the look of concentration on his face.

He had been such a good friend the last week. At first she felt like such a burden, always needing his shoulder to cry on. But after a few days passed, she realized that he really didn't mind just being there. In fact, he loved being with her. Amelia found that she enjoyed being with him as well.

"Here," Lucas said softly. He tossed two envelopes across the floor. Amelia looked at the front of both. They were addressed to Caitlin and Marie. For some strange reason, she felt her stomach tighten in an uncomfortable knot. She hadn't really talked to or seen either of them for the past few days. It was almost like she didn't want to see them because they would find a way to make this whole thing better.

"What are these for?" she asked. Why didn't she want to make it better? She liked being mad at Erik. He did a horrible thing, and Lucas was being an amazing friend and comforting her. She didn't want anyone messing up their relationship. _Even though you're completely ruining a deeper one?_ Amelia felt her jaw clench.

"I think those are their schedules for the next week or so. There's an opera being performed in two weeks, I think."

"Oh," she replied. Her internal struggle slowly winded down as she sorted more envelopes. The last thing she thought was that she should thank Lucas for being such a good friend to her.

After a few more minutes, Lucas finished. "Do you want to go get some lunch?" he asked. It was about noon, and she was famished. He stood and went over to help her up. But before she took his hands, Amelia looked up at him.

"Lucas?"

"Yes?" he lowered his hands.

"Thank you for… being with me this week."

She saw his eyes sparkle slightly. And then he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Honestly, Amelia, it is no trouble in the slightest." Then took her hands and helped her off the ground.

**

* * *

**Caitlin had been trying to persuade Erik to go to the surface for food for the past ten minutes. And now she was about to give up.

"Just go up to eat and then you can come right back down," she said unconvincingly. Erik went to his piano and ignored her.

"You can't make me eat," he said softly.

"Erik Destler! You have got to be joking! You won't eat because you are so depressed about Amelia, and you won't do anything to make it better!"

He suddenly turned around on the piano bench to face her. His dark eyes burned with rage, despair, and what appeared to be insanity.

"You don't know the first thing about it, Caitlin!"

"Then, please, tell me so I can understand," she replied with a little less intensity.

Erik searched for the words to voice his feelings; there were almost none. So he put it the best he could. "I'm afraid Amelia will be there when I return. Oh, I would love to see her again, but I'm afraid that she will have moved on to _him_. But I am most afraid that I have hurt her beyond healing."

Caitlin didn't respond and looked away from him. In all honesty she hadn't really seen Amelia since the incident. But perhaps now was the time to fix everything on all sides. To get Erik and Amelia back together. To ensure Lucas didn't get hurt in the process. To make sure Giselle minded her own business. And to restore her and Marie's relationship with Amelia as well. Caitlin felt like she had abandoned her friend right when she really needed her.

Erik sighed and turned back around on the bench, anger fading. Caitlin looked at him. He was hunched over the piano, looking more and more like an insane recluse by the second. He was withering away without Amelia; practically disappearing before her eyes, a phantom.

"Perhaps now is the time to heal," she said. Erik didn't reply for a while, and then his head turned a bit so his non-masked eye could see her.

"How?" was all his raspy voice asked.

He could practically see the wheels turning in Caitlin's head as her mind created a plan. After a few moments she smiled slightly.

"That was quick," Erik said. A small spark of hope had suddenly lifted his heart.

"Please just listen to the whole plan, alright?" her eyes were genuinely begging.

"Of course," he turned around completely to face her again.

Caitlin began pacing a little, wringing her hands as she did so. "Alright. I just know for a fact that Amelia still loves you. It's a gut feeling I have. Maybe she doesn't like you right now, but deep down, she loves you. I'm also sure she's been with Lucas this week. I mean, if not Marie or me, who else, right?"

"Can you please get to the plan?"

"Just listen, I'm walking you through everything." She paused for a moment, thinking, and then continued. "Giselle obviously likes you," she glanced at him, "and doesn't like Amelia. And I'm fairly sure Amelia doesn't like Giselle either."

There was a long silence in which Erik began to interject. Caitlin held up her hand to quiet him. She was still thinking this whole thing through.

"I have four players," she murmured, more to herself than to Erik. "Each is with the wrong person."

"You've got that right," Erik quietly enough so Caitlin couldn't hear.

**

* * *

**As they walked to the dining hall, a comfortable silence fell over them. Amelia looked up at the vast ceiling as always.

Lucas watched her out of the corner of his eye. He began at her collarbone; it protruded just perfectly at the base of her neck. The creamy skin of her throat accented other features like her hair and eyes. Her soft jaw line and chin led to her perfect profile. Her eyes swam in a blue ocean beneath long lashes. It took him a moment to realize that those beautiful pools were staring at him.

"What?" Amelia asked, a light blush on her cheeks.

Lucas looked quickly forward murmuring, "Nothing."

He saw her smile. Then he dared to be bold enough to take her hand. She didn't immediately lace her fingers with his, but she did not reject him. And that was all he could have asked for.

They continued walking down several corridors before reaching the dining hall. Once they sat down at a table, Amelia released his hand. Lucas assumed she stopped so she could eat properly. But what was going on in Amelia's mind was a completely different matter. The entire time she held Lucas's hand, it felt strange. She felt like she was betraying _him_, which was strange because he had betrayed her first. Amelia had pushed the thought from her mind when it led to where it did. But she kept thinking how her hand didn't fit just perfectly into his. Her fingers refused to move, afraid they would look for calluses that didn't exist. So she let go of his hand when they sat down.

While eating, Amelia caught herself looking around multiple times. Why was she searching for him? It wasn't like he would just decide to show up for lunch the same day she did. A strange ache in her heart told her that it wished he would.

**

* * *

**Caitlin sighed softly. "Don't hate me."

"It's impossible. I've tried."

She smirked a little, but then the pained expression returned.

"Could it be that bad?" Erik asked.

"No, I'm just afraid of what you'll say."

Silence. Erik realized then and there that he didn't care how bad the plan was, he just wanted to know. "Spit it out."

She took a breath in preparation. "The only thing I can think of is jealousy. Honestly, it's one of the most powerful emotions; it can make you do some crazy things."

"I'm already jealous of the mail boy, if that's what you're getting at."

He could tell that the words had hurt Caitlin, which was odd. One would think it would be the other way around. But she truly wanted to help him.

"Sorry."

"What I'm trying to say is… make _Amelia_ jealous."

"I'm going to ask a foolish question and say 'how?'"

"Be with Giselle."

Erik knew it was coming, but hearing it was almost like a physical blow. "Excuse me?"

"Be with Giselle. I know it sounds crazy and completely immoral, but listen: I know how Amelia will react. She's already over the sad stage between you two. I think she won't let herself have anymore pain. _I_ think that if you go public with Giselle, she'll be angry. Deep down, she knows that you don't love Giselle. But seeing you with her will make her jealous, want to get even."

More silence. Erik lifted his head to look at Caitlin. Her eyes gazed at him expectantly.

"How will this fix everything? Won't it just make everything worse?"

"Perhaps at first, but knowing you and Amelia, I'd say she'd be so angry with you that she'd fall in love again." She paused. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

"Not really."

"It's almost a female thing. When she knows that you don't love the one you're with and she isn't in love with who she's with, she has no choice but to love you. Because that's what she really wants. We're just exposing her desire so she can see it more clearly. True, making her angry will drive her closer to Lucas, but then she'll see that he's not you. She'll want what Giselle has, because she had it first. And that is you."

"Honestly, that didn't help at all."

"Okay, in simpler terms… You know she is with Lucas."

"Yes."

"Doesn't that make you want to be with her more?"

"…_Yes_. Alright, that makes more sense. Why couldn't you have said that to begin with?"

**

* * *

**They didn't speak much throughout the meal. It wasn't as comfortable as the walk to the dining hall had been. But, it wasn't uncomfortable either. They just exchanged some thoughts every now and then, becoming silent after a few words. But one question Lucas asked her caught her attention.  
"So do you think you'll be joining the orchestra any time soon?" It was a simple question, most likely formed to make conversation. But the thoughts it induced made Amelia really wonder what the answer to it was.

"I have no idea. I would still love to, but I guess might need a new teacher…"

Lucas looked up at her, surprised. He had completely forgotten that her teacher was related to the orchestra. To him, Erik had been an object in the way of Amelia's affection.

"Oh. Yes, I didn't think about that…" The silence continued and differing thoughts of Amelia's teacher flooded two minds.

Make that _three_ minds.

Amelia felt her jaw slowly fall into a gaping position. She absolutely could not believe her eyes. Her heart silenced its regular beating, she stopped blinking, her fingers twitched into contorted balls. She felt Lucas stiffen at her side. The sight… was honestly breathtaking. No, breath-stealing. To Amelia, the sight felt like a kick in the stomach.

Erik Destler and Giselle Leandros walked into the dining hall together, his arm around her waist. Giselle looked completely smug and beautiful, as always. And Erik looked… well, he didn't look like anything. He was expressionless. His dark eyes revealed no feelings of what was going on. They just stared straight ahead.

But at the same time, he looked good. Although he looked thinner, she could tell that he had gained muscle in the last week or so. His expression wasn't necessarily angry, but it was getting there. Amelia found she thought he looked cute with that expression. She stared at him for a moment longer. Then her eyes snapped shut. _Cute_? Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. How could she have suddenly gotten over this already? Why would she have forgiven him right there, had Giselle been absent?

Giselle. Amelia opened her eyes again to look at the couple. She was sure now that she wouldn't forgive him any time soon. How could he do this to her? Surprisingly, Amelia felt no pain or sadness. She was angry. She didn't care about Erik and Giselle's relationship, because she could tell it was spurious. Erik wouldn't have had that expression if he was in love with Giselle. He had never looked like that around her.

Alright, if that was the game he was going to play, then so be it. Amelia turned to Lucas and gave him a smile.

"I've suddenly lost my appetite," she said simply, eyeing her half-eaten lunch.

"Me too," Lucas agreed.

They took each other's hands once they stood from the table. Deciding to take the long way out of the dining hall, they happened to pass the newest couple. Amelia's eyes only left Lucas once to see if Erik was watching. He was.

Lucas noticed that her eyes had looked greener in the dining hall.

**

* * *

**Once Caitlin had fully explained her plan and her predictions, Erik set out to find Giselle. He felt horrible and wrong doing it, but he suddenly believed it was the only way. He'd gone to the main desk in the foyer and asked for an employee room list. Much to his surprise, they actually had one. Erik easily found Giselle's room; he was just worried how he was going to do this.

He knocked on the door. _Why am I doing this?_ It opened to reveal Colette; he only recognized her, but he'd never met her before.

"Is Giselle here?" he asked.

Colette stared at him for a moment. He could tell her gape was partially because of his mask and partially because she knew who he was.

"Yes," she said softly and disappeared. Giselle took Colette's place.

Her green eyes looked him over as a small smirk appeared on her lips. "Can I help you?"

Erik took a breath. "Can I talk to you… out here?"

She wetted her lips and then replied, "I suppose."

Giselle closed the door behind her and followed him down the corridor. _What am I doing? _Erik came to a stop and then turned to face her.

"I really don't know how to put this. But I guess I'll just say it. I… I like you. I want to be with you. I'm not sure how it happened, but it did." He knew his uncertainty would give him away, so he hoped that last line would sell it.

She didn't say anything for a while, just looked at him. Then, "You're unlike any other man I've met, Erik Destler."

He waited, but Giselle said no more. "So, what does that mean?" he asked.

She hesitated. "It means I like you because you're so different from other men. And I'm glad you've finally accepted my invitation."

Then she leaned in to kiss him. Erik suddenly regretted doing this entire thing. He turned his head to the right, avoiding her lips. And she kissed his left cheek.

"Although we _have_ kissed, I feel like spending time with you first," he hoped that was the right thing to say, especially to a woman like Giselle. She looked at him strangely, but nodded anyways.

"Well then, will you take me to lunch?"

"Of course."

They had walked into the dining hall with his arm around her. Erik had braced himself for the worst. He wasn't even sure if Amelia would be there or not. The situation that had played out almost met his standard of 'worst.' The worst-case scenario was that Amelia would be there and look horribly miserable. Amelia _was_ there, but she looked neither depressed nor elated. So he supposed things could have been worse.

As they walked to a table the only thought he had was, _I hope Caitlin is right._ He knew his face had to look very uncomfortable. He felt his jaw clenching, his entire body was stiff. Erik began to wonder if it would even look like he wanted to be with Giselle. But there was no escaping the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realized that she didn't fit perfectly next to him. Only Amelia could fill that spot.

As that last thought flitted across his mind, they passed her and Lucas. Erik knew he wouldn't be able to handle it if he looked into Amelia's eyes, so he stared straight ahead, holding everything in. Although he looked nowhere near her, he could still see out of the corner of his eye her mouth hanging open, her beautiful oceanic eyes burning holes into him.

Once they sat down, Erik began biting his callused finger. He looked into space thinking of what would happen next. He knew Amelia saw them. But what exactly was her reaction? Was she angry as Caitlin had predicted? Or was she horribly upset and crushed because of him? _Or_ was she so happy that he had moved on so now she could? He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This was too much.

A moment later, he felt Giselle stiffen at his side. He opened his eyes to see her glancing over at the end of the table. Erik also looked toward the end of the table to see Amelia and Lucas walking together, hand in hand. His entire body froze, but his eyes followed them as far as he could. Amelia's gaze drifted over at him before the couple was out of his sight. They made eye contact for a mere second before she looked away again. And in that small second, he knew. Erik knew she was angry with him. He knew she didn't love Lucas. And he knew she wanted him back.

**

* * *

**"You were right."

Erik had left the dining hall a few minutes later, unable to make regular conversation with Giselle. He had kissed her cheek before he left, hoping to keep up the charade.

Caitlin smiled slightly. "Good." They had met at the stairs leading down to his home.

"What do we do now?"

"I think you shouldn't push it. I'm not sure if she'll try to flaunt Lucas in front of you or just ignore you. We'll decide what to do once she does. Don't initiate anything with Giselle, either. Let her decide when she wants to go out."

"Right." Erik was about to go down the stairs, but his stomach growled furiously. He froze mid-step and looked guiltily up at Caitlin.

"Did you even eat?" she looked frustrated.

"No… I guess I was only in there for a few minutes."

"You're hopeless. We're going to L'Automne Café so I can be sure you eat _something_."

They decided to walk to the café due to the nice weather; it was early April. They had found a table in a corner, away from the crowd. Caitlin knew Erik was still stared at. And when someone did stare at him, she glared at that person with such intensity he was sure they would burst into flames. They ate in quiet. There was some conversation, but mostly just silence. He liked it this way. He really appreciated Caitlin's friendship.

Less than an hour later, they went back to the Opera House. On the walk back inside, a thought occurred to Erik.

"Have you seen Marie lately?"

"I haven't gotten many chances to talk with her. She's been rehearsing a lot lately for the performance. And I guess I have been, too. Why do you ask?"

"I guess I was wondering if you or she has talked to Amelia at all."

"I hate to say that I'm being a better friend to you than to Amelia right now. I haven't talked to or seen her in a week." Caitlin looked down. They got quiet again.

They walked to the door to Erik's home. The sun was slowly being hidden by a small mass of clouds. The brisk wind made Caitlin shiver.

"See you later?" she asked.

Erik nodded and went inside. He made his way through the dark corridor and found the trapdoor he made. He opened it and jumped down through the opening. He noted that getting a ladder would be a good idea. And then he walked down a maze of corridors to his home below.

A few hours later, Amelia sat on her bed in the dormitory. She stared at the countless sheets of music that were spread out on her bed. She had been thinking about everything for the past several minutes. How she knew Lucas liked her. How she had realized in that split second of looking at Erik how much she missed him. How she missed their music. How he was with Giselle. How Lucas always stared at her. How much she wanted to scream at making decisions.

Amelia bit her lip and gathered up the music. She put the stack into her side table drawer and decided to go to a practice room. Before she left, however, she took one blank piece of sheet music and a pencil. The opera was still bustling with people; it was about dinner time. Amelia found numerous practice rooms, but most were filled. At the end of a hallway, she found an empty one.

Amelia sat down on the piano bench and stared at the keys. Her eyes gathered the tears, but they didn't fall. All she wanted was the simplicity of her relationship with Erik. She wanted to return to their lessons, their music. She needed him. She didn't want Lucas or Giselle or anyone else. She just wanted Erik.

She played a few notes, making up a melody on the spot. It was so mournfully beautiful that the tears finally fell. Amelia continued playing the piano and scratched down the notes onto the blank staff.

The finished product not only held music, but teardrops as well.

* * *

**Yes, I am alive! I know these chapters take forever, but I want you to never lose hope in me. I am always working on them in my spare time. This semester is just insane for me. I'm surprised I wrote half of this one in the past week or so! Please tell me what you think, I love your feedback!**


	17. Jealousy

**Hi there... I'm still here! This story really just has a few chapters left, which is good and bad. Good because you must know by now that I am going to finish it. Bad because it will be coming to an end... so sad! But... it's not over yet! So enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**

**Jealousy**

A few days later, Amelia sat at the usual table, eating her breakfast alone. She was glad, relieved even, to be by herself for a while. It seemed like she was always with someone doing something. She had almost considered going out for breakfast to be away from everything, but she wasn't quite ready to be _that_ alone. Amelia sighed softly. She wasn't sure if she liked the reason why she was alone; this was not how it was supposed to be.

The day before, Lucas had asked if she would go to François's party with him. She'd immediately thought of Erik. He wouldn't want to go; he wasn't a very ostentatious person. But Giselle was. And Amelia figured she would beg or possibly _convince_ him to go. So Amelia said yes. Lucas had been so ecstatic. And it was at that moment Amelia realized she didn't have anything special for the party... no dress, jewelry, accessories... nothing. She'd mumbled briefly about going shopping and Lucas gave her the day off. He offered to take her shift and still pay her. Amelia just let him take her route.

She stared at her breakfast. Shopping wasn't really at the top of her list of things to do, especially if she had to go by herself. Perhaps she would just wear one of her nicer dresses and borrow some jewelry. She could almost convince herself that that plan would work. Almost. Amelia bit her lip as she thought.

"You'll chew them raw, you know." As if on cue, Caitlin sat next to her.

Amelia smiled. It was good to see her again. "Hi. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too. How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I suppose." Caitlin felt a pang of remorse for not being there for her friend... and for making it slightly worse recently.

"Why aren't you doing your mail route?" she asked, easing back into their normal relationship.

"Oh, um, long story short, Lucas took my shift."

"Why?" Caitlin was genuinely interested. It was like old times.

"Well... he asked me to go to François's party with him," Amelia smiled again.

"Really? Oh, great! So you're definitely going?"

"Yes."

Caitlin looked at her for a moment. "I'll bet you don't have a dress." Her friend didn't respond. "You don't, do you!"

"No... will you go shopping with me?"

"I'd thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

Caitlin and Amelia walked down the street and looked for just the right dress shop. They decided on a smaller store that helped you create your own ball gown. The seamstress met them at the door. Then the two girls were measured and certain colors were matched with their complexion, hair, and eyes. The seamstress said that each of their colors would bring out the best qualities in all three of those areas. Amelia's match was green, Caitlin's was violet.

Amelia found herself having fun for the first time in over a week. She really had missed Caitlin and her personality and sense of humor. The two were either giggling or telling the other how pretty they looked in each gown. After an hour or so, their dresses were designed and starting to be tailored. Amelia's was olive green with pickup skirts, a figured bodice, and off the shoulder sleeves. She would have to wear a corset with it, which was something she was not looking forward to. Caitlin's was violet with a full skirt, figured bodice with accents of cream lace, and elbow-length sleeves that flared and also had more lace.

As they left, Amelia felt both relieved and concerned. She was relieved that she had finally bought a dress and that she could attend the party and not stick out. She was concerned because she had bought the dress. It had cost her over two month's salary. But when did she go shopping? Never. This was her time to splurge. It wasn't like she really needed the money for something.

The entire shopping trip took about two hours, making it lunch time when they returned to the Opera House. Caitlin and Amelia took their newly bought items to their separate dormitories and then met up again for lunch.

"Do you want to go out for lunch?" Caitlin asked as they walked to the dining hall.

"I actually promised Lucas we could eat together since he wasn't here for breakfast."

"Oh. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not!" Amelia smiled and linked arms with her.

Caitlin was hoping to comfort Amelia a little and make sure she didn't do anything rash. Erik and Giselle were coming to lunch together today. She also was dying to hear what she thought about Erik now, but that wasn't something Amelia would say around Lucas. When they reached the dining hall, Caitlin tensed slightly. Her eyes swept the room and found neither of them; she relaxed a little.

They sat at the table where Amelia had been eating breakfast earlier that morning and talked. A few minutes later, Lucas sat next to Amelia.

"Oh, hello, Caitlin."

She had to restrain herself and be nice, even though this was the young man that was helping to ruin everything she and Erik had worked for. "Hello."

"Caitlin will be eating with us today," Amelia said nicely.

As the small group began their meal, a strange silence enveloped them. Although pieces of various other conversations disseminated throughout the dining hall, it appeared as if there was a bubble of quiet around their table. None of them liked it, but for different reasons. Amelia had sensed a little bit of tension between her two friends and wished for them to like each other, or at least speak. Lucas wasn't sure what to say to Caitlin - she had completely abandoned her friend when she needed her most. He had nothing to say to her. And Caitlin simply refused to speak to Lucas when she wasn't required to.

Caitlin ate carefully, waiting for Erik and Giselle to enter. When they did, she just decided to watch and see how the situation would unfold.

The couple walked into the dining hall hand in hand. That was new. Giselle's sleek, black hair was hanging down her back. That was new also. Erik's expression wasn't much, she could tell he was restraining a grimace. But he was a good actor. Amelia looked up and then shifted her body away from her and toward Lucas. Caitlin raised an eyebrow and looked back at Erik. He actually looked at Amelia. His eyes softened - no, melted - from their harsh coldness. He didn't smile, but his eyes did a little. Caitlin liked that. She looked at Amelia again. Her eyes softened as well. And although her hand was placed in Lucas's, her eyes belonged to Erik. Her lips parted ever so slightly. Their connection lasted for mere seconds before their partners stole their attention again.

"Amelia," Lucas said softly, closing his hand around hers. She looked away from her real love into her fake one's eyes. The contrast between their emotions made Amelia feel uneasy. She pulled her hand from his and continued eating as if nothing had happened.

"Erik," Giselle whispered into his ear. He tore his gaze away from Mia to look at his substitute lover. Her intense eyes held his for a long moment. Erik knew she was going to kiss him, so he began walking and dragged Giselle with him. Caitlin watched as his eyes froze over yet again. It was simply amazing how he could shift moods so quickly. She'd have to congratulate him on that later. Caitlin looked over at her friend. Amelia could also change moods very quickly. She'd have to talk to Erik later; they needed to figure something out fast. Caitlin wasn't sure how much more her friend's emotions could take.

* * *

Erik grunted as he pulled himself over a passageway. He'd stolen some picks and shovels and was now creating more stable corridors for himself. A few rocks and chunks of dirt fell from the newly-made ceiling onto his white shirt. He didn't have many of those...

He removed his shirt and began digging and shaping the earth into more secure forms. He'd been doing this a lot lately. Erik needed a way to channel his anger and frustrations through something other than music. Music only reminded him of Amelia. And whenever he thought of her... well, he never accomplished anything. Giselle constantly annoyed him, irritated him. When he finally was free of her at the end of the day, he was so tense. Erik had to do something and lately building passageways seemed to work best. More dirt fell and hit his mask. Erik sighed in frustration and threw it atop his shirt. He was definitely going to need to bathe after this.

After observing his stable creation, he was satisfied. Erik walked down the corridor, meeting almost absolute darkness. He counted his steps and then turned to his right. Then he lit the gas lamp on the wall. He walked a bit further and busied himself with another entrance. While he worked, his mind drifted. To Giselle, unfortunately, and to what she had said to him earlier that day. She talked about François's party. Well, first she'd mentioned the party and then said a few vicious things about him. Then she went on and on about her dress and how he should buy a new jacket and other things that would match.

_"It's a beautiful deep blue that goes wonderfully with my hair. I think you'd look good in that color as well. Anyway, the dress just fits me perfectly, you'll love it." She kissed his ear and kept her lips there, "It looks just as amazing when it's not on me."_

_Erik tried to ignore her insinuating comment, "So we're going to the party together?"_

_Giselle simply stared at him for a few moments. "Of course, Erik. Why wouldn't we?"_

_He shrugged and tried to look away._

_There was a slight pause and then Giselle continued, "You should buy a new jacket, one with lapels, and new trousers, and a necktie - one that matches my dress. Do you think you can do that?" her voice was very demeaning. He didn't like it, so he didn't respond._

_Giselle touched his shoulder softly. "Erik, this party is important to me. The Populaire doesn't have parties like this often. Could you get those clothes?" He still ignored her. Suddenly, her dainty hand shot in front of his face, holding a wad of cash. "For me?" Erik took the money only because he knew he had no choice but to buy the clothes. He also barely had any money to buy clothes with._

That money was currently sitting on the table next to his bed. He'd shop later. Perhaps he could get Caitlin to help him. He knew nothing about clothes or matching or what the hell a lapel was. All Erik knew was that he had to work on these passageways.

* * *

Hours later, Erik sat at his piano. Not playing. Just staring.

He finished a few more passageways and called it good for the day. He bathed and changed clothes, still thinking about the outfit he needed to buy. He tried to sleep, but that was of no use. Sleep was a rarity now. So Erik lay on his bed for quite some time, looking at the rock ceiling. Then he looked at his drawings. Then his compositions. And now he stared at the piano.

He poised his hands to play numerous times, but always pulled them back. He hadn't played the piano since kissing Giselle... and losing Amelia. Erik's heart thudded uncomfortably. There was a reluctance with music now; he was always afraid something bad would happen. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. Maybe it was just with the song. He longed to play it, but if he even thought about it, something in his mind stopped him. Erik scowled then adjusted his mask. He would play it soon. Just a little more time.

"Erik?" came a very distant voice.

Caitlin had decided to come from the side entrance and was most likely lost now. He'd have to explain how to maneuver around the labyrinth he created.

"Coming!"

He ran swiftly through the catacombs, seeing perfectly in the utter darkness. A few moments later, he saw her silhouette.

"Erik?" she asked again.

"Right here." Then he reached over her and lit a gas lamp.

Caitlin blinked a few times and looked up at him. "I had no idea this was such a maze..."

"I'll show you how to get around some time."

They began walking toward his home, Caitlin touching his arm every so often for guidance. They talked a little about the past few days. Caitlin mentioned something about him not eating supper. Erik was relieved when he got her to change the subject. After a few minutes, they reached the grotto.

"You've done nice things with it," Caitlin noted.

"Thanks. You said you wanted to talk about lunch today...?"

"Yes," she paused, reminiscing in a memory. "What a stare down! Do you realize the effect you have on her?"

Erik shrugged and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Well, I do. Her emotions are running wild. And I think it's time to go in for the kill," she said softly.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that you're taking Giselle to the party next weekend and Amelia is going with Lucas. It means that this whole jealousy thing will reach its climax then. And then something will happen. Something between you and Amelia will fix everything."

"How can you be so sure?" Erik asked in a pained voice.

"I don't know. But I do know that I have never been more sure in my entire life."

They dropped the subject of jealousy and tried to talk about other things. Erik had been tuning out one of Caitlin's stories when he glanced at his side table. And saw the money on top of it.

"And his music fell all over -"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I have a question," Erik smiled awkwardly. "More of a favor, actually."

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Could you buy me new attire for the party? Giselle was bugging me about it earlier and I hate shopping. I don't know anything about clothes. And you know that I can't go out..."

"Whoa! Buy? I just spent more than enough on my dress today."

Erik went to his side table, grabbed the money, and handed it to her. Caitlin took it and shrugged. Then he explained everything that Giselle had told him to buy. A nice jacket with lapels, a matching necktie, new trousers, and Erik decided to add a vest into the equation. Caitlin agreed and decided that she wanted to get measurements just to be sure the clothes would fit perfectly.

After she wrote all the measurements down, she made to leave.

"I just have one more question," Erik said. Caitlin turned around and looked at him expectantly. "...Do you know what lapels are?"

* * *

Amelia stared at herself in the mirror. She'd never been this dressed up in her entire life. She was wearing her olive colored dress with heels and a corset. She had makeup on and she'd allowed Caitlin to do her hair... a little. Amelia decided that she didn't like dressing up.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" She saw Caitlin coming in the mirror and turned around. Uncertainty escaped Amelia's features, even with the makeup on. "What's wrong?"

"I... I have to wear this all night?"

Caitlin laughed and took her arm. "Yes. You'll regret it in a little, but it will be worth it. He'll think you're so gorgeous!" She decided to let Amelia decide who she was talking about. "Come on! We have to get down to the ballroom soon!"

"You go ahead. I want to take what few breaths I can before I go down there. Besides, I'm sure Thomas will want to see you," she smiled as Caitlin blushed. It was about time they got together. He was the 'stuck-up trumpet player' her friend had wanted to kill so many months ago. Her friend smiled and left.

Amelia sat on her bed and took a few light breaths. She really wanted to think about the dream she had the previous night before she went to the party. It had left her with strange, confusing emotions.

_She was crying. Locked in a room, trying to escape. Something was on the other side of the door, something important. She needed to get on the other side to be with it... No. Him. To be with him. Something was wrong. She had to save him. That was her purpose for getting on the other side of the door. They had to escape together. _

_She cried more. She couldn't get out of that room. Her hands clutched her face and then moved to her hair in frustration. Then her fingers felt a pin. She removed it from her hair and tried to pick the lock. It worked._

_She opened the door and ran to him. He was surrounded so she couldn't see him. But screams and laughter filled the air. That didn't make sense. Something else echoed as well... "The Devil's Child! Come and see the Devil's Child!"_

_She shouted his name over and over. She loved him. They needed to escape, but the others were closing in on him. They beat him... whipped him. Called him names. She cried more. What could they do to escape?_

_"Nothing." one said. "You can do nothing. Leave him."_

_Leave the Devil's Child._

Amelia blinked a few times, hoping the tears wouldn't escape and ruin her makeup. She wanted to sort her emotions first. Fear was obvious. There was a sense of urgency. She'd also felt helpless; at first in escaping the room and then in helping him. Love was a fleeting emotion, but it was there. Then finally... completely powerless, like she wasn't in control, like she had no choice but to leave him.

Who was the Devil's Child? She had called his name, but now she couldn't recall what it was. That was frustrating. It had been a while since Amelia had a dream like this. So long, in fact, that she wondered why she was dreaming it again. What triggered this dream? She thought for a while. Perhaps the changing scenery of people and the stress that came with it caused the nightmare.

Amelia gave a little sigh. It was just her hyper-active subconscious getting worked up.

She stood and walked to the vanity again. Although she hated the feeling of getting dressed up, the product _was_ nice. Amelia smiled slightly at her reflection. Perhaps she could enjoy this night. She looked away from the mirror, knowing that her expression contradicted that last thought. There was no way she could enjoy the party if she was with Lucas and Erik was with Giselle. She bit her lip for a moment. Then she became angry. Did he not realize that his actions were killing her on the inside? That she was decaying? Amelia's jaw clenched and she looked at herself in the mirror once again.

Her expression was no longer anxious, it was now determined. She was determined to make him feel the same.

* * *

Erik stood next to Giselle as she talked with Colette and some of her other friends. He was distant and hoped to stay that way until Amelia showed up. He looked over at his date, appraising her for the hundredth time. The bodice of her deep blue gown clung to the perfect curves of her body. A plunging neckline left almost nothing to the imagination. She wore long white gloves and large sapphire earrings. Erik looked away again, hating how grandiose she was. How on earth was he going to survive this party?

He felt his question being answered as she descended the grand staircase.

Amelia looked absolutely stunning. She embodied perfection. He couldn't look away. The olive-colored dress accentuated her eyes and even her hair. The color was flawless on her. Her caramel hair had loose curls and a few were pinned up. As she walked closer, Erik noticed the makeup. His first instinct was not to like it. Her face was perfect without it. But when he saw her eyes, cheeks, and lips... he loved it.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Lucas met her there. When he saw her smile his heart stopped for two reasons. One, she'd surpassed perfection. Two, she was smiling at Lucas. Now was the time for the jealousy to climax. It was time for this whole thing to come to an end. Erik leaned closer to Giselle and whispered a request to dance into her ear. How could she resist? She smiled and eliminated the space between them. His breath caught at her proximity. It had been a while since someone had come so close.

Giselle took his hand and walked to the dance floor. A few couples were already dancing. As they waltzed, Erik tried to find the source of the music. After whirling around a few times, he saw the orchestra seated on a balcony. Monsieur Reyer conducted as usual. Seeing the orchestra made him think of Amelia yet again. He tried his very best not to let his emotions show, but the mere thought of Amelia not playing the violin cut straight into his heart.

"Erik?" Giselle asked.

He took a breath and looked into her eyes. God he hoped she was watching. Giselle glanced down at his lips. Her gloved hand moved to the side of his neck, ready to pull him in. Erik placed his hand against her cheek and guided her toward him. They kissed in a gentle, simple way. She wasn't overpowering him like he had expected. It was a pure closed-mouth kiss. He pulled away when he realized that he liked the softness of her lips.

"Would you like a drink?" Erik asked softly.

For once Giselle was speechless and merely nodded.

He walked over to the bar without looking for her. He just hoped that she had seen it because there was no way he was doing that again. He completely and absolutely loved Amelia, but he was a man. Resisting Giselle after a kiss like that would be difficult.

Erik asked for two drinks and glanced in her direction. She and Lucas were standing together, facing the dancing party-goers. Amelia was looking at neither Lucas nor Erik, but Giselle. There was a strange expression on her face that he couldn't quite identify. She looked sad, but eager. Annoyed, but excited. He figured that she'd seen their kiss, but he didn't understand why she was experiencing these emotions.

"Monsieur."

Erik turned and around and took the drinks. Then, as he walked back to Giselle, he noticed Amelia watching him. Her face held no emotion now, reminding Erik of his own face. When he passed her, both looked away. As he handed Giselle her drink, he could feel his heart pounding.

Amelia gazed at him. It was amusing to see him so dressed up, but then again he looked very handsome. He wore a black evening jacket over his white shirt and vest. The vest was a deep blue that matched Giselle's attire. She noted his silver necktie as he walked by. And his pants... they fit him perfectly! She'd especially noticed this when he was walking away from her. Amelia blushed and looked at Lucas. He smiled faintly and placed his hand on the small of her back. She could barely feel it through the corset.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Yes," she smiled as they walked out onto the ballroom floor.

They danced amongst dozens of other couples. As the night wore on, more and more people arrived. Amelia recognized many, but others she saw for the first time. She kept an eye on Erik and Giselle throughout the entire evening. Fortunately, they shared no more kisses. Close to the end of the celebration, Monsieur Reyer stopped the orchestra. He stood above the party on the balcony and spoke about François. He talked about the Opera's success under François and many of his accomplishments.

When Reyer was done, François himself decided to talk. He had a little too much to drink and gave a quick, slippery speech. He thanked everyone for working every day and playing now. Reyer helped him down the stairs when he was done.

Shortly after that ordeal, the orchestra started back up. Amelia dragged Lucas off the dance floor and asked him to get drinks. She waited impatiently, eager to get this over with. She was sure to place herself perfectly in Erik's view. When Lucas returned, Amelia took a few sips of her drink and then set it down.

"Lucas?"

"Hmmm?" he responded while drinking.

"There's something I've been wanting to do."

"And what's that?" he asked, completely oblivious.

"This."

Amelia took his drink and set it down as well. Then she took both of his hands and wrapped them around her waist. She placed one of her hands against his cheek and looked into his eyes. Lucas looked down at her and slowly leaned in. When his eyes closed, she hesitated. But then she closed her eyes as well. Their lips met gently. Lucas began kissing her harder, one hand moving to the back of her head. Amelia returned the kiss, hoping it wouldn't get too heated. Moments passed and she realized that she needed to end it.

She gently pulled away and blushed. Lucas smiled and kissed her forehead. Amelia stayed close and fiddled with his neck and collar, dragging out the affection. She hoped that he had seen. She hoped that in that moment he was feeling what she had felt the last couple weeks. She placed a delicate kiss on his neck.

"D- do you want to go out in the hall?" Lucas stuttered. Amelia was almost disgusted with his insinuation. Couples go into the hall for privacy. _They_ did not need privacy.

"No, Lucas!" She glared at him and tried to walk away. He took her hand.

"I'm sorry, Amelia. It's just that the signals you're sending me are confusing." She looked up at him disbelievingly. "No, really. You kiss me, but it feels like that's the last thing you want from me. You stand next to me and try to cuddle, but it feels like you wish you could be miles away from me. I don't understand what you want!"

They both became silent and stared at each other. Lucas released her hand.

"What do you want, Amelia?"

Tears came to her eyes as she looked away. This was not turning out as she hoped.

"Not me." Lucas nearly whispered.

She looked up and reached for him. "No, Lucas, I-"

"I waited for you to like me, but it didn't work because you were fixed on another. I waited for you to recover, and you did... a little. I waited for you to come closer to me, and you only grew further away. Amelia, I know you don't want me. So please stop pretending."

Lucas kissed her forehead once more. Only this time he did not smile or pull her closer. He turned around and left her alone.

* * *

Erik sat on his bed, undoing his tie. He had already removed his shoes, jacket, vest, and mask. Once he pulled the silver snake from his neck, he fell against the pillows. This night did not go exactly how he thought it would. It was very anti-climatic, he realized with a smirk. He saw Amelia and Lucas kiss and that had cut him much deeper than anything else that night. But he had also seen Amelia hesitate. That gave him hope.

After their kiss, he tried to ignore them for the rest of the evening. But when he did look in their direction, he noticed that Amelia was alone. She didn't stay much longer. Once she left, Erik really felt no reason to stay. He'd bid Giselle goodnight with a kiss on the cheek and came to his home. And now he had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. What was going to happen now? Nothing climaxed at the party, this whole thing didn't end. With a sinking feeling, he realized that Caitlin had been wrong.

Erik sighed at glanced at his side table. The velvet box sat atop it, waiting to be moved. His jaw clenched. That box would not be moved until the jealousy ceased. Until they all stopped throwing it in every direction. Until everything was resolved, there was nothing Erik could do with that god-forsaken box.


	18. Remember Me?

**Well, aren't you lucky! This is the longest chapter I have ever written. 13 pages on Microsoft Word instead of my usual 10. I just couldn't stop writing! I really hope you enjoy this one. I have literally been planning this chapter since the beginning. :]**

* * *

**Remember Me?**

Another week went by without incident.

Now that Amelia and Lucas were no longer together, she sat and ate alone more often. Caitlin was torn in so many ways. She just did her best in being there for both of her friends. Marie was still consumed with the opera, which was being performed that weekend. Erik and Giselle's relationship hadn't progressed.

So another week went by without incident, perhaps just in Erik and Amelia's case. Caitlin had been thoroughly confused by the outcome of François's party. She had questioned him about everything: what he did with Giselle, what Amelia did with Lucas. Things just played out differently from what Caitlin had anticipated, however that might have been.

Erik asked her, in the nicest way possible, to stop giving him advice. She completely understood. He knew that the result of the last week was hard enough on her, he decided not to point out that she 'had never been more sure in her entire life.' Erik simply returned to his melancholy attitude, slowly pushing Giselle away. Speaking of which, she was getting agitated with him and his reluctance with her. Things were not going well between them. The following morning, in fact, would be the end.

They met for breakfast and sat together like they usually did. Erik rarely spoke like he usually did. Giselle babbled on and on... like usual. Half way through her breakfast, though, she became silent. Erik felt her staring at him as he ate. It wasn't her normal stare that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. It was a gape that made him feel uncomfortable for a different reason. He could sense her gaze lingering on his mask. She was looking at him like so many patrons of the traveling fair had. Erik felt his jaw clenching and glared over at her.

"What?" he spat.

"I have a sudden urge to be alone with you," Giselle said huskily, moving closer.

Erik cringed slightly and hoped that his mask covered that expression. He was going to have to end this soon; he wasn't exactly sure what Giselle's intentions were. But he agreed to leave with her, hoping that he would be able extract himself from yet another sticky situation. This was getting to be too much. She took his hand and led him to an empty corridor. It was still early enough in the morning that the halls weren't filled.

"Do you realize how you tease me?" Giselle said softly, still guiding him down the corridor. He was genuinely confused. Erik Destler _tease_ Giselle Leandros? It made absolutely no sense.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She didn't answer for a while and Erik realized where they were headed: the large practice room.

"Giselle, I don't-" She opened the door and playfully pushed him inside. The door closed as she sauntered toward him.

"I am a very confused woman, Erik. At the party last week, you gave me the best kiss of my life. It was innocent, just like you. You weren't kissing me just to kiss me. Your mouth was closed, your hands were modestly placed. I loved that kiss, Erik. But I am confused because I have not received a single other kiss in our relationship."

Erik stood there, dazed. He did not want to kiss her again, especially alone. Especially in this room that held so many memories, some he wished to forget. It took him a few moments to realize that Giselle was moving toward him. He froze. No matter how much he willed his body to move, it did not. Moments passed as she closed in. She smiled and leaned...

"No!" Erik twisted away.

"_What?_" Giselle's eyes became two burning emeralds.

"I can't do this. I don't want you, Giselle. I don't love you and I never will!" He tried to get around her to leave.

"At least give me a parting gift," she hissed. Erik unknowingly turned to look at her. Her hand suddenly appeared in front of his face and reached for his mask. She ripped it off in one swift movement, revealing his deformity. "Oh, my god!" Giselle screamed with everything in her. "You monster! You deceiving little freak! I can't believe I kissed you!" She threw his mask and ran out of the room, door slamming behind her.

Erik stood there for a moment. His heart was pounding from the sudden adrenaline rush. His hands were shaking with fury and fear. This was not how he imagined ending it.

When his emotions finally subsided, Erik decided to look for his mask.

* * *

Amelia sat in a crimson chair, one of many. She decided to go to the matinee of the opera Marie and Caitlin were performing in. It gave her mind a rest. She could finally escape her pathetic reality into a completely different world. A world where good defeated evil and right was always the obvious choice. A world where love's walls were impenetrable. But now the opera was over and she sat alone yet again. Her heart gave a painful thud. Was she in love?

She thought back to before things changed. Well, things had been changing for the better, and then for the worse. Amelia thought about how she had felt. How her heart and stomach fluttered simultaneously when he held her hand. How his lips felt against her cheek and even against her own. How amazed she was with his musical skills. How even the simplest touch felt heavenly. Another ache escaped her heart.

Then she thought about Lucas. She liked him, but never in a way more than a brother. She'd hated how he would always stare at her. Sure, Erik did it as well, but his eyes looked beyond her appearance. When he gazed at her, she felt light, like she might float away. But when Lucas did, she wanted to escape.

_Could_ this be love? Or could she be biased? Did she not want to love anyone else just because she pined for her teacher? Again, her pulse hurt. The thought of him with Giselle made her feel ill. They were not meant to be together. Giselle wasn't really _meant_ for anyone. She was there for many. It made Amelia sad to realize that Erik had been one of the many. A few tears escaped now. She knew that they were supposed to be together.

She _had_ to be in love for this to hurt so much.

* * *

Later that day, Amelia chose to eat dinner alone. She liked idea of not putting on a face. And although monotonous, her days were structured. The last week had been barren. Amelia could barely remember what she had done. She wanted to play her violin and hopefully get into the orchestra, but she never felt like practicing. Music triggered something within her that she preferred not to feel.

She had returned to the mail route, blocking out the fact that Lucas was never there. She really did feel bad about leading him on. Amelia wondered if he was experiencing the same emotions she was. Had he been in love with her? She sighed into her meal. A love triangle - or square, perhaps - was the last thing a sixteen-year-old needed.

The thought of her own age reminded Amelia of her approaching birthday. She smiled slightly. Seventeen. It was strange. Usually one feels nothing different when he or she gains another year. But Amelia felt like her age should have changed weeks ago. That's when she changed.

Her unusually morose thoughts were interrupted by Caitlin. She sat down with Amelia, saying nothing. After a few moments, Amelia smiled to herself. Her friend knew her too well. It was times like this when she needed someone, when she shouldn't be alone. When her thoughts transformed from sad to depressed. Caitlin kept her sane. Amelia leaned against her shoulder and Caitlin's arm wrapped around her.

"Tell me," she said softly.

"Tell you what? What is there that you don't already know?"

"Why you're depressed. Why you're always alone. Why you seem to be blocking everything out. Including me, sometimes." Amelia sighed and tried to sit up, but Caitlin's arm kept her in that position. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me everything."

She smiled and rested her head against her friend's shoulder. "Can we talk in private? I think this could get messy."

They left the dining hall and went to the lounge between their dormitories. It was surprisingly, and luckily, empty. They sat on a couch and Amelia explained everything. How she was in love with Erik. How Giselle ruined everything. And how, unfortunately, she let jealousy ruin her relationships. Most of this Caitlin already knew. But she figured her friend could use a good venting and crying session.

After crying about everything she lost, Amelia became very somber. She then enlightened Caitlin on the past week. Her depression was evident as she explained what she could remember. She didn't cry, but Caitlin could practically feel the pain radiating from her.

"I just didn't have the energy or desire to do anything this week. It was strange. But I guess I lost the only consistent comfort. I pushed him away. And don't think you weren't comforting to me. You were. You just weren't the constant kind I needed. And I understand. You were busy with the opera and other things, like Marie."

Amelia's knees were pulled to her chest, her chin atop them. Caitlin suddenly felt extremely guilty, mostly because her reasons for inconsistency weren't true. She looked away from Amelia and tried to think. Her actions hadn't been very reasonable. She was a romantic and she wanted to use Erik and Amelia as pawns for her strange fantasy of love. And, of course, things didn't go as planned.

Her romantic plans had not been successful. This was life, not a fairytale. And now she had to turn to someone who was rational and understood the realistic side of life: Marie.

"Amelia, we're going to Marie for this."

"What? What does she have to do with this?"

"More than you realize."

* * *

Erik looked at his reflection. His face was bare, deformity exposed. A few tears came to his eyes when his mind replayed the words Giselle had said. It had been years since anyone had actually called him such things. The stares he could try to ignore, but the words penetrated his heart.

He sat on his bed and his stomach growled; he didn't eat lunch or dinner today. He was actually afraid that Giselle would be there and do something rash. Awful scenarios ran through his mind, like Giselle ripping off his mask for all to see or just screaming when she saw him. Those situations were what kept him away from the surface.

Erik sighed. What was he going to do now? He didn't have Giselle to make Amelia jealous, which he was both happy and sad about. But then again, Amelia wasn't with Lucas anymore. He wondered distantly what had happened between them. Amelia was losing her glow, her happiness... in fact, she seemed to be losing all emotion. Her face always seemed to be devoid of it. That worried Erik immensely.

He knew that the first couple days of their separation he had been depressed. But he never thought Amelia would be capable of feeling that low. Maybe it was because she missed Lucas. Erik's eyes narrowed. Then the voice in his head laughed at him. _Really? Isn't it obvious? She misses _you_, you idiot. You knew from the beginning that she didn't like Lucas. But they were friends. You must know that now that she has lost both of you she is crushed. She wants you._

Erik thought about that. The voice did have a point. But then again he was listening to advice from his head. God, this was confusing.

His thoughts were interrupted by someone calling his name from the labyrinth. It actually sounded like more than one person. Erik replaced his mask and went into the maze. After maneuvering through the twists and turns, he met Caitlin and Marie.

"Erik!" Marie sounded relieved and happy. She hugged him. This was the only contact they had in the past few weeks. He suddenly felt easy. Marie was like a mother and older sister wrapped into a friend. He liked that.

"Can you take us to your home now?" Caitlin said a little impatiently.  
"Sure."

He led them back to his home. Caitlin took the liberty of sitting in the large chair. Marie began pacing, which made Erik nervous.

"What is going on?"

"Sit," Marie said, pointing to his bed. He followed her orders.

She paced a bit more then finally spoke. "Caitlin told me everything. And I'm sorry... for not being here for you and for the fact that you had to do everything she said."

He smiled slightly. "Marie, it's really okay."

"But in case you didn't notice, my plans didn't work," Caitlin said softly.

"I noticed. So, what is this about?"

Marie didn't respond.

"Just spit it out!" Caitlin said.

She glared at her friend for a moment. Then she turned to Erik. "I want you and Amelia to talk. Alone, with no distractions. I want you to tell her the truth. It sounds like you two were doing fine until Giselle stepped in. Go back to that person, Erik. Be yourself, like you were before Giselle. I know Amelia loved him."

Silence enveloped them. Erik lowered his face into his hands. He felt strange, because this was not complicated. This was easy. He could be himself for once. His heart thudded at the thought of finally talking with Amelia alone. He lifted his head.

"When?"

* * *

The next evening, Amelia sat in L'Automne Café. She was waiting for Erik. Her heart began to beat quickly in anticipation of seeing him again. Her palms began to sweat at the thought of talking to him. She suddenly felt sick, so she took a sip of her tea. She tried to force herself to calm down, but every time someone walked by her heart began its frenzied hammering. Amelia took deep breaths and drank her tea. She kept her eyes on the table, hoping to ignore all the distractions.

Soon, though, she saw black pants walking in her directions. The black pants that fit him perfectly stood behind the chair across from her. Heart pounding, Amelia looked up at him. He looked as nervous as she did. That gave her courage. It also reminded her of how she felt back when he was her teacher. She stood as well.

"May I sit?" he asked softly.

"Yes, but first... there are two things that I've wanted to do these past few weeks." She walked around the table so she was right next to him. Erik looked at her expectantly, but with fear in his eyes. She looked into those dark pools. Then she slapped him across his left cheek. His expression barely changed.

"And the other?" Amelia moved even closer, so they were chest to chest, and wrapped her arms around him. She placed her head against his chest. She felt him exhale and then his arms enveloped her as well. With a sigh, Amelia realized that this was where she belonged.

They returned to their seats and ordered. While they waited for their food, Erik just gazed at her.

"I've missed you," he said softly.

Tears came to her eyes. "How could you miss me when you have Giselle?"

"Mia, let me explain that."

Erik noticed how her eyes got dreamy when he called her his pet name. He liked that she seemed to enjoy when he called her that. Then he told her everything about what went on between Giselle and him. He explained how she tricked him into kissing her, and how he later used her to try to make Amelia jealous. Erik decided to leave Caitlin out of this, unsure of what Amelia would think.

She smiled. "I could tell there was something..."

"What do you mean?" Erik asked.

"Well, your face when you were with her... you always looked very angry or completely emotionless. It was rather funny to me."

"I guess I should work on controlling my face," he said, making them both laugh.

Their food arrived and there was a small silence as they began eating. After a few bites, though, Erik wanted to hear Amelia's side.

"So... Lucas," he said, hoping it would get her talking. It did.

"I was very distraught immediately after... after. He was my constant comfort as I tried to heal. He became my very good friend. But when I saw you and Giselle together, I did the same as you. I used him to try to make you jealous." She looked ashamed.

Erik nodded slightly, his suspicious were confirmed. But then he thought of something else. "What happened this week? With him?"

Amelia sighed and looked down. "At the party, I kissed him, but he could tell I didn't want to. He realized then that it wasn't him I wanted." She blushed deeply. "So he left me at the party, and I really haven't seen him since."

"I'm sorry." The strange thing was that he really was sorry.

They ate more, talking a little in between. Now that the truth was out of the way, Erik and Amelia slowly reverted back to their original relationship. They just talked about everything now. Catching up on what was going on in the Opera House, around Paris. Their conversation drifted to music and both were slightly hesitant.

"Have you played your violin at all?"

"Not really. I wanted to, but I never felt the desire to play. Did you play the piano?"

"I tried, but it felt strange to play without you."

Amelia blushed and smiled a little. "I did play the piano, though. I actually wrote a small melody."

"Really? Could you play it for me soon?" Erik was genuinely interested.

"Sure. I actually kind of thought it would fit in..."

"Our opera?" Amelia smiled and nodded. They began discussing their opera again, and all doubts about music disappeared.

An hour or so passed and Erik's mind kept replaying Marie's words: _I want you to tell her the truth._ He did tell Amelia the truth. But his friend's voice had a tone that made him think about something much deeper than the past few weeks. His heart lurched when he realized what it was. _The truth_. To be absolutely real with Amelia, he needed to tell her the complete truth. Erik began biting the side of his finger.

"What is it?" Amelia asked immediately.

"What do you mean?"

"Whenever you're nervous or anxious you bite your finger," she said, looking at the extremity in front of his lips.

"Oh."

"So, what's wrong?"

"I-... I want to talk to you more, but in private."

"Oh. Well that's fine. Where do you want to go?"

"I'll show you," he smiled.

They paid for their food and left the café. Although it was late April, it was still chilly. The setting sun sent radiant oranges and purples into the Parisian sky. Amelia was just wearing a simple dress with short sleeves. She shivered slightly and took Erik's hand. He moved closer, noticing her momentary shudder.

It began to rain very lightly as they walked to the Opera House. Amelia seemed disappointed.

"I don't think we'll get much privacy here," she said.

"Not where we're going," Erik pulled her away from the main entrance. They went to the side and he opened the door to his home.

"What is this?" Amelia asked in a good-natured way. "I've never seen this entrance before!"

"It's my entrance."

"What do you mean?" she didn't move, getting wet from the light rain.

"I... live down here." He wondered if anything would spark her memory.

"You're one strange man, Erik Destler," Amelia laughed a little and went inside.

Erik entered behind her, into the complete darkness. She immediately moved closer, taking his hand.

"Does your home have lighting? A couple candles or gas lamps, perhaps?"

He oddly loved her sarcasm. "Of course it does."

She was silent for a few moments. "Then-"

"_This_ isn't my home. We have to go down."

Amelia sighed and let him lead her deeper into the black.

When they reached the trapdoor, Erik released her hand to open it.

"What are you doing?" she sounded alarmed.

"There's an opening here that we need to go through. We have to go _down_, remember?" He sighed in frustration. "And we're going to have to jump. I still haven't gotten a ladder."

"Erik, I don't know..."

"It's okay, Mia." He moved closer and whispered in her ear, "I'll catch you."

As he jumped through the trapdoor, Amelia felt both exhilarated and scared. Exhilarated because she'd never done anything like this before, and because Erik was driving her crazy. She honestly wished she would have turned in the moment he whispered in her ear and kissed him. But she was scared because she had no idea where he was taking her. And she was afraid to jump.

"Mia, jump. I will catch you," Erik called from below.

"How? You can't see me..."

"You'd be surprised at how well I can see in the dark. Jump."

She took a breath and jumped through the opening. The drop was only six or seven feet, but she screamed anyways. Erik caught her perfectly, just as he promised. He held her for a few moments. One of her hands was placed on his arm and she could feel the flexed muscle beneath his shirt. That sent her heart hammering yet again. As did his warm breath against her cheek.

Erik could see a few details on her face. She was beautiful even in the dark. Her hand moved from his arm to his shoulder. She nuzzled her face into his neck and he swore she kissed him there.

"Mia," he said huskily. He set her down, but was sure she stayed close. His hands found her face and lifted it to his. Their lips met in a gentle kiss. Amelia reached up and placed her hands against his neck. She pulled him closer. After a while, their lips released each other. Amelia wrapped her arms around his waist. Erik pulled her in, one hand in her hair. It was the most intimate hug, filled with so much emotion.

"I still want to talk," he said softly.

"Talk, then," Amelia countered, face against his chest.

"No," he held her at arm's length, "I would like to talk to you in the light. This is important."

"Okay. Take me to the light." She took his hand.

Erik led her through the labyrinth, kissing her hand a few times. He still couldn't believe this was happening. They were back together. They had kissed. But his elation slowly wore off. He wasn't sure if he could wait until they got to his home. He stopped at the next gas lamp and turned it on. Finally, her face was revealed to him.

Amelia was entranced with how his mask glowed. As they sat down, though, she began to wonder exactly what they would talk about. He started biting his finger again, and she grew worried.

"What do you want to talk about?" she tried to sound normal, but she knew her voice held a hint of dread.

Erik stopped biting his finger and looked at her. He tried to figure out how to start. Then he sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. "Mia, have you ever wondered how you got here?"

Her face was blank. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, here at the Opera Populaire."

"Well, I don't remember it, but Monsieur Reyer was searching for violinists and found me and brought me here," she looked confused.

Erik silently cursed Caitlin and Marie for the story. It was completely ridiculous. His face revealed his thoughts. "Do you really think Monsieur Reyer would be desperate enough to search the entire country of France for a violinist? And even if he was, do you think he would bring back a thirteen-year-old girl?"

Amelia stared at him. Why was he saying all of this? What did this have to do with anything? And how did he know how old she was when she came to the Opera? She shook her head and thought for a moment. He _did_ make sense; why would Monsieur Reyer do those things? Now, almost four years later, it did sound absurd. But of course, she had been a naive girl at the time.

"It does sound strange, but why does this matter?"

"Amelia, I want to tell you a story," Erik looked down at his hands and her eyes followed. She stared at them as he began.

"When you were still living with your three brothers and your sister, you felt out of place. You didn't feel loved. And the day your mother slapped you was the end. You ran away."

Amelia's stomach dropped. How did he know about that? "Erik, I never told you-"

"Please, Mia," he looked up at her. His eyes had almost a golden glow in this light. They penetrated into her soul. They held so many emotions, she couldn't decide on what they were. Pain seemed to be the most evident. "I want you to hear the whole story. You can question me when it is over." She nodded silently.

"After you ran away, you were captured by gypsies." He paused for a moment, realizing how ludicrous that sounded. It was worse than the Reyer story. "They locked you up in a cage with a boy. His only clothing were pants and a ragged sack over his head. The two of you slowly became friends, realizing that you needed to stick together.

"Later you learned that the gypsies ran a traveling fair. There were strange shows at the fair: unusually flexible people, a bearded lady.... And the boy was the main attraction. You see, his face was... deformed. Different. Abnormal, just like the rest of the fair. The gypsies would lock you in a room while they put on a show. They would reveal his face to the crowd, eliciting both screams and laughter. The gypsies would beat him, with both their fists and whips."

Erik stopped for a moment, silently reliving those horrible years. He forced the tears back and for once, they obeyed. He looked up at Amelia when he heard her sniff. There were tears in her eyes as well, only hers had fallen.

"Mia?"

"I-... I had dreams," she breathed heavily, "about being locked in a room and trying to get out. I could hear things..." More tears fell. Then she wondered something. "What was the name of his attraction? What did they call him?"

Erik's face fell. He hated that name. But she wanted to know. "The Devil's-"

"Child," Amelia finished.

"You remember?" he asked suddenly, clutching her hands.

"Not exactly. I always heard that name in my dreams. The Devil's Child... I felt horrible for not escaping that room and helping him." She looked up. "What happened? How did we get out?"

He released her hands and continued. "One night after a show, you picked the lock of your room and got the keys to his cage. But someone saw you. A girl named Marie helped the two of you escape and took you to this fine building to stay."

Amelia looked at nothing, trying to wrap her mind around this. It had to be true. There was no possible way Erik could know what she dreamed. She never told anyone about those dreams. Although she forgot, her subconscious did not. But there had to be more to the story. Why did she not remember any of this? And even though she had a fairly good idea of the answer... Who was the Devil's Child?

He hadn't said much else. Amelia looked up at him, now finding hope in his eyes. She decided to ask the most important question.

"Who is the Devil's Child?"

Erik stared into her eyes. "Me."

She didn't let herself blink even for a moment. She wanted to remember so badly. Tears poured from her eyes. Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

Once it ended, Erik smiled... but it still held pain. "The story's not over." His shaking hand reached up to his face. His fingers grazed the mask. Then they grasped it. Erik removed his mask and placed it in his lap. His eyes were closed when he heard her gasp. Tears escaped.

He opened his eyes again. Amelia saw the anger there and became frightened. He had never looked at her like that. When Erik saw her cower, he lost it.

"Of course! Why would I expect you to be the same! You fear my face just like the rest of the world." He was standing now. Amelia looked away, confused. "Oh, no. Look into the face of the Devil's Child!" he shouted at her.

She looked at him with anger in her eyes and stood as well. "I do not fear you or your face, Erik. You are no Devil's Child. You are just Erik."

Erik's temper cooled slightly. "Why did you gasp?"

Amelia's gaze softened. "I know you won't believe me." She sat down again and he followed. "Your face triggered something. I know that I've seen it before. In a strange way, I recognize it."

He stared at her, not wanting to accept it. He didn't want her making up lies to calm him down. He shook his head.

"Erik?" Amelia nearly whimpered. "I remember."

"No you don't. You don't remember me or the traveling fair. You haven't for three years, Mia, and you never will!"

She looked up at him. "You're right. I _don't_ remember those things." She kneeled in front of him and reached to touch his right cheek. When her fingers grazed the marred flesh she said, "But I do remember this."

Amelia's fingers moved from his temple, down his cheek and stopped at his jaw line. She slid them from the back to his chin. All the while she stared into his eyes. Then she looked down at his lips as her finger traced them. Erik gently grabbed her wrist, stopping her. He kissed her finger. She took in a breath and closed her eyes. That had happened before. Touching his face like that felt so natural for her. And the feeling of his lips against her finger... was something she couldn't forget.

"I remember," she whispered, eyes still closed.

Erik's lips suddenly crashed against hers with such fervor, she couldn't help but return it. Both of his hands clutched her face, keeping her there. Between kisses Amelia would whisper that she remembered. His lips felt amazing against hers and soon her entire face. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids.

When he finally ceased kissing her, Amelia simply touched his face. She studied it and memorized the contours of his cheek. She traced where his right eyebrow should have been, down the side of his nose, across his cheek, then down his neck to pull him closer. She guided his head to rest against her chest, his deformed cheek pressed against the exposed flesh. Amelia's eyes slid closed yet again. The feeling of his skin against hers was surreal. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced.

The thoughts of skin made her think of the beatings he had received. She fiddled with his hair as his head rested against her.

"Erik?" she asked softly.

"Hmmm?" was his reply.

She took a breath. "Do-... do you have scars?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Then, "Yes, Mia." He slowly pulled away from her and stood. As he began to take off his shirt, Amelia pushed his arms back down.

"What are you doing?" she asked, startled.

"I want you to see them," he said very seriously. She nodded and released his arms.

Erik removed his shirt and was suddenly glad for the work he had done the past few weeks. Amelia simply stared at his lightly sculpted chest and stomach. But as her eyes gazed at the muscles, she noticed a few scars. She eliminated the space between them and reached out to touch him. She hesitated, though, and looked up at him. He simply kissed her forehead.

Amelia touched each individual scar on his chest. Then she clutched his arms to turn him around. He followed her guidance and turned. Then he heard her gasp.

"Oh, Erik." There were hundreds of lashes on his back. Most were faded, but all were still lighter than his normal skin. Some were raised more than others. Tears escaped her eyes as she touched a scar. The sound of a whip hitting flesh filled her ears. Her dreams had been so realistic. Amelia rested her forehead against his back and she wrapped her arms around him. Tears fell from her lashes down his back. After a few moments, Erik turned around within her arms. He dipped down and kissed her again. This time their tears mingled with their lips.

* * *

  
**I hope you liked it. I couldn't wait to write this chapter! And there is still more that needs to happen. Remember their opera? ;]**


	19. Finally

**BOOM. I don't have much to say... other than I'm sorry it took me over a year to update. That's kind of embarrassing. I wrote a lot of this in the past couple of days. As I've said in the past, I have to be in that mood. And I have to have time. It's rather funny that I wrote a major portion while in college. Since when do you have time in college, right? Well, I don't know. haha.. I really hope you enjoy this chapter and its variety of emotions. Please don't get whiplash! But please DO review! ;)**

* * *

**Finally**

Erik gently tugged on Amelia's hand as he led her through the dark passageways. They were silent now, both thinking similar thoughts. They were both so emotional, yet emotionally drained. There had been a very wide range each felt within the last hour or so. Erik felt like he had so much more to tell Amelia, but he didn't want to drown her. He wanted to tell her about the day she lost her memory and the velvet box... his song for her. At that thought, Erik brushed his lips against her hand yet again.

Amelia leaned closer to him. She was so happy. She couldn't believe what had happened mere minutes ago. Everything Erik told her had made sense, for the most part. Of course she wouldn't remember every detail, but the story confirmed that she wasn't a lunatic. Amelia wanted to know so much more about her forgotten year… or years. But, then again, she would give anything to just lay down and sleep. Her week of depression combined with ridiculous exhaustion and the sudden fluctuation of emotions just left her drained. She smiled nonetheless. Now that she had Erik, Amelia would have all the time in the world to sleep.

"Are we almost there?" she felt like she had to whisper.

"Nearly," he replied, just as quietly.

After a couple minutes, Amelia noticed a dim light washing over the hallway. Erik continued into his home and turned to face her. He wanted to see her expression, whether it be recognition or surprise; he didn't even care which. A smile appeared on his lips as he watched Amelia. Her lips parted as she took in his home. Her oceanic eyes swam along the cavernous walls and ceiling. They drank in each piece of furniture. They glowed as they rested on his piano. She smiled, too.

"This is beautiful, Erik."

He simply smiled in return and walked deeper into his home. Amelia followed, suddenly feeling very free and easy here. She released his hand to sit in the large chair. A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back into the cushions. Her eyelids suddenly felt heavy...

"How many times have I been here?" she asked softly, eyes closed.

"We both used to live down here," Erik replied easily. But Amelia's eyes shot open and she turned to stare at him. "We slept in separate beds!" he added jokingly.

"Still, though... isn't that scandalous? Two young teenagers living together?"

"I wasn't really allowed to have a home, Mia. Marie snuck us in here, remember? You were only kind enough to stay with me, rather than live in the dormitories that they would have welcomed you to."

Amelia slouched slightly. That thought had never crossed her mind. She got up from the chair and went to him. Erik was facing the water with his back to her. Amelia stood behind him for a moment, then took both of his hands and rested her head against his back, like she had not long ago. They stayed in that position for a while, both feeling very comfortable with each other.

Then Amelia wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer.

"Do you have any more stories about us?" she said softly.

She felt him sigh. "I have many." Erik turned around within her arms. "But I'm awfully tired. If you want to hear another story, I might need something to help keep me awake." Even with his mask on, Amelia could see the implication in his eyes and his devious smirk. She stared at that smirk for a moment. Then she captured it. At first his lips were tight from smiling, but when they softened, Amelia swore she did too. Every inch of her felt like warm, melting butter. She loved how gentle their kisses were.

"Ah, much better," Erik said, smiling. He took her hand and led her back to the chair. Once Amelia sat down, she realized that she wanted him to sit next to her. She looked next to her and realized that that would not work.

Erik noticed her body language and understood what she wanted. "There used to be a time when we could both fit on that," he mused. Amelia smiled for a moment and looked up at him. "I'm better at telling stories when mobile anyway," Erik added, and began to pace. "I suppose I haven't told you one of the most important stories…"

Amelia was glad he knew her so well. She wanted to know why she couldn't remember any of this. She looked up and became somber. She wished she could remember the laughs they had shared in this grotto. The nights they stayed up talking. Amelia looked over at him and found that he was still pacing. Something romantic he had done for her. She curled her legs beneath her and leaned against the cushions. A touch. A smile. A song…

Her eyes closed as Erik began to tell the story.

"We had been together for about a year, and I had a present for you." He glanced at Amelia and then the velvet box atop his side table. "I took you to the auditorium. I really have no idea why I wanted to give it to you there. Perhaps it was because I wanted to keep you waiting. You are adorable when you're impatient." He looked at her again to see her smile, eyes still closed.

"I took you above the stage, to the catwalk. I was such an idiot. I was hoping you would be afraid—just a little—so I could be the brave man." Erik rolled his eyes and sighed. "I kissed you when we reached the top. But you eagerly waited for the real present, which was in my pocket. Being the child I was, I decided that you should chase and catch me to win the prize."

Amelia's eyes were now open and she sat up. She urged him to continue with her eyes, but his back was to her. Erik stared at the water with tears in his eyes. His lips parted in preparation, but no words escaped them. He removed his mask and held it at his side.

"Mia, you must know if I had any idea it would happen I never would have even thought about taking you to the auditorium. You must know that." She nodded furiously even though he couldn't see her.

"You chased me. I outran you and you got lost. I kept running because I didn't know how close you were. As you walked around up there, the rickety floor gave out and you fell." He let the mask slip from his fingers and descend to the ground. The clatter made Amelia jump.

"But my torment didn't end there. There had been ropes all over the floor and some fell with you. Multiple ropes wrapped around your body, suspending you above the stage. I followed sound of your cries for help." The pain in Erik's heart made him stop for a moment. It was amazing that it hurt to even speak about this incident because he loved her so much. That thought was both comforting and tragic. His mind lingered.

"What happened?" Amelia whispered, almost inaudibly.

Her voice returned him to reality. He swallowed his emotions and continued, "As I said, the ropes wrapped around your body. Including your neck. Like the floor, though, the ropes were starting to give out. But the accursed one enclosed around your neck did not. You were being strangled before my eyes, and it was all my fault. I didn't know what to do."

He had turned around and stared at Amelia with such vulnerability in his eyes. His maskless face looked so helpless. Tears spilled over at the sight of him.

"And you... between suffocated breaths, you... You told me to cut the ropes. I feared the inevitable harm of such a fall. But you were confident even though you were slipping away. I was so unsure of what to do until... until you said that you loved me."

Erik left his mask on the floor and made his way toward her. As he neared, Amelia instinctively reached out to him. He took her outstretched hand and slowly kneeled in front of her. He kissed a fingertip.

"Mia, you were the first person in my entire life to say that to me. You have been the only one to say it." He looked up.

A sob escaped Amelia's lips as she gazed at him through tear-filled eyes. He was still holding her hand, so she used the other to guide his neck next to hers. Her fingers clutched his hair and she leaned her head against his. She sobbed again.

"Please don't cry, Mia. I hate it when you cry." He felt her body breathe in and the air tickled his ear when she released it. Amelia clung to him as she tried to control her tears.

Erik closed his eyes. Unfortunately, this was not the reaction he was hoping for. He didn't really know what he wanted her to do, but it wasn't this. He didn't want her to pity him. He didn't want her feelings for him to change because of this extra piece of information. He simply wanted her to know that about him. She hadn't known it before, although she could have guessed.

"Mia," he whispered, "don't pity me. Please." Erik pulled away from her so he could see her face. Eyes and lips swollen. He had made her cry like that. He looked away to escape her heartbreaking gaze.

"How can I not, Erik?" she said, voice thick with emotion. He turned toward her again, only to regret it. Fresh tears poured down her cheeks.

"Stop," he whispered feebly.

"No. How can I not pity you? Your life has been so..."

"Unfair?"

She stared at him. "Can you not see how much of an understatement that is?"

"Mia, I see it. I know my life has been far more than unfair. But what can I do about it now? What's done is done. Besides, the most unfair part of it all is you."

Amelia stopped and stared at him yet again. She was prepared to fight with him, but that caught her off guard. What did he mean by that?

"What?" she breathed.

"Amidst all the injustices in my life, I have you. It isn't fair or right for me to have you, but I do. That's all that matters to me now."

She sighed. How could she fight with _that_?

She wiped her tears from her cheeks and rubbed her eyes. It wouldn't be long before she fell asleep... But something stopped her from laying back.

"What happened? Did you cut the rope?"

Erik sat on the ground and rubbed his face. He sighed. "Yes." Amelia watched him for a moment, wondering if he would continue. He licked his lips. "You fell, of course. But that sound... I can still hear the thud of your body impacting the stage. God, that _sound_." He composed himself. "I ran to you and realized that you weren't breathing properly. I struck your back and you began to breathe normally. But there was blood on your head. Not too much, but seeing it on my fingers petrified me. I took you to Marie, and she cared for you."

Amelia sighed. "And then I woke up, having forgotten everything. God, this kills me that I don't remember."

"Me, too."

* * *

Not long later, Erik sat at the piano, and Amelia had curled back into the chair. He played a gentle melody, an aimless song of pure joy. While Mia was upset about forgetting, he felt better about telling her the complete truth. Erik smiled slightly to himself; he knew she was happier about knowing that lost part of her life. He continued tinkering on the piano, making a lullaby up on the spot. Amelia had to be drifting over in her chair. She had to be exhausted from the day's wild emotional undulation. Erik wondered if she had slept well the last few weeks. He sure hadn't. But now, sleep was not a problem. His hands literally had a mind of their own. As he fell asleep, Erik played a mellow variation of his song for Amelia.

* * *

She knew she was still asleep. But she was kind of awake. And uncomfortable. The first thing she saw when her eyes opened was Erik's bed. A large, soft bed. All she wanted was to go back to sleep comfortably. Amelia uncurled from her stiff position on the chair and stumbled to the comfort of the unfamiliar bed. She pulled the sheets over herself and closed her eyes. At least the smell was familiar...

* * *

_She opened her eyes, already knowing what would be above her. Erik looked down at her both lovingly and hungrily. She loved the mixed emotions in his eyes; it stirred an amazing burning sensation in her stomach. She distantly hoped that she conveyed the same feelings. His hot breath fanned her cheeks and muddled her mind, so she finally stopped thinking._

_She looked down and realized that his shirt was gone. Another sizzle in her stomach. Boldly, Amelia touched his sinewy shoulders and arms. She grazed her fingers against his chest. His breath accelerated against her face. She finally rested her hands on his neck and looked up at him. He dipped closer. Her heart hammered in anticipation of the kiss._

_Erik's lips brushed against her own, burning her there. They both responded at the same time, kissing harder. He lowered himself so that their bodies meshed together, and Amelia found her fingers tangled in his hair. As she gasped for air between kisses, she breathed in his hot scent. It was both intoxicating and suffocating. Amazing._

_As he deepened the kiss, the burning spread everywhere. His warm body enveloped hers as her blood boiled in her veins. Amelia was sure she would burn alive, inside and out. It was a marvelous sensation._

_Then, he was hurled off of her. She heard him grunt from the sudden force. Amelia tried to sit up, disoriented. When her eyes finally focused, she saw Erik sitting on the ground, also confused. His mask was gone, but it didn't bother her. What bothered her was the fact that his expression and position reminded her of a lost and lonely child._

_She tried to get up and go to him, but something made her freeze. Gypsies. They began to circle Erik, sneering and brandishing their weapons. Erik looked frightened, and Amelia wanted to cry. Then they hit him. One whipped him, the sound echoing in her ears. Another kicked him repeatedly while he was down. She watched in horror as they continued to beat him. Now she cried. She screamed his name, not knowing how it would help._

_Each blow, smack, and hit was like a flogging upon her heart. It felt like chunks of it were being ripped out. Erik's body cowered from each direction the gypsies attacked him. His face was horrifying now._

_His expressions cut her deep. She was helpless to save him._

_"Disgusting maggot!"_

_Bleeding._

_"Loathsome monster!"_

_Bruised._

_"Devil's Child!"_

_He collapsed._

_"ERIK!" she screamed._

* * *

"Erik! Oh, God... Please! Erik!" Amelia's voice reverberated off the cavernous walls. Erik sat straight up on the piano bench, alarmed and confused. His neck ached from its previous position on the keys. He had expected to see Amelia standing in front of him, but he had to look around to find her. Erik walked precariously around his home, only half-seeing things. A soft whimper awakened his senses.

Amelia thrashed in the sheets of his bed and whimpered again. He bolted to her side. Her cheeks were flushed, and a pained look tarnished her features. Erik briefly noted the thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead and neck. His hands hovered above her; he was unsure of what to do.

"Erik," she keened. "Please stop! Erik..."

What could she be dreaming about? What was he doing in her dream that she so desperately wanted him to stop? Erik retracted his hands and looked away. Why was she having a nightmare about him? Did his face secretly horrify her? Did she just pretend not to care while her subconscious revealed her true feelings about him? He was on the verge of leaving her there alone on the bed.

Amelia whimpered again. The sound broke his heart. It didn't matter what she was dreaming because he was going to end it.

"Mia," he said softly, gently shaking her. She remained in her nightmare. He kept cooing her name and touching her shoulder to no avail.

"Amelia," he said and shook her with more force.

"Erik?" Her eyes were closed, but he could tell that she was searching for him. "Erik? Erik..."

"Mia, I'm here. Wake up. Open your eyes."

"Erik..." she sounded hopeless.

"Wake up, Amelia!" he nearly shouted.

Her eyes flew open in shock. Then they settled on the young man sitting on the edge of the bed. She blinked a few times, slightly confused. But when she saw him and realized she was no longer dreaming, Amelia let out a breath. She reached out to him, and he hesitated. Hurt flicked across her features.

"Erik," she breathed, suddenly remembering the intimate part of her dream. The cold sweat that coated her face and neck made her shiver. He took her hand. His warmth made her draw him closer. He hesitated again, looking unsure. Determination took over Amelia's features, and she deliberately pulled him down onto the bed. Erik tentatively laid his head down on the pillow facing her. He still didn't know what her dream had been about; he didn't want to upset her.

Amelia literally stared into his eyes for a very long time. Dark brown all the way through. Though she found that in dim candlelight his eyes held a golden glow again. That was nice. She finally allowed her eyes to release his and looked down. A light scar blemished the top of his chest. Amelia felt her eyes sting as images from her dream resurfaced. She shuddered.

Erik watched her as she stared at him. As her eyes changed color with every minute movement like the sea. As she smiled ever so slightly. As her lips parted when she breathed. As she slowly looked away and saw something. As pain washed over her features. Now he watched her helplessly. He still didn't want to touch her and possibly upset her further.

Amelia looked up at him again with tears in her eyes. "Hold me," she whispered.

When he paused, she buried her face into his chest. Erik immediately wrapped his arms around her. It was slightly awkward lying down, but he didn't care. He felt her breathing deeply against his chest. She wasn't crying, though. Erik placed one hand against her head and began stroking her hair. She curled closer to him. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and they both sighed.

* * *

Amelia woke up from the best night's sleep she'd ever had. She kept her eyes closed, loving how refreshed and warm she felt. Her sigh caught in her throat. Warm? All along her back a soft, wonderful temperature... She looked down at what was in her hands. A third hand. What?

Then, with a rush, it all came back. Making up. The truth. The _whole_ truth. Crying... a lot. Her dream. Erik's endless hesitations. And finally, falling asleep in his arms.

She looked down at his hand again. Now she felt his arm draped across her side. An oddly familiar sense sizzled in the pit of her stomach. Amelia closed her eyes again and relished in the warmth of his body enveloping hers. She felt his face against the back of her head, no doubt buried in her hair. Pulling his hand closer to her face, she kissed his finger.

Erik opened his eyes and took in a breath at the same time. Something hindered both of those actions. He pulled his head back from the mass of sandy locks in front of him, spitting out a few strands in the process. Both of his arms were uncomfortably asleep. As he began to let go of Amelia, he realized that he was _holding_ Amelia. Their shared warmth covered the entire front of his body. It felt nice. He nuzzled his face back into her hair while pulling her closer. She sighed and kissed his finger again. They lied there, both knowing the other was awake.

Amelia suddenly bolted upright.

"What?" Erik asked, voice thick from sleep.

"I… spent the night here. We didn't… but people might… Caitlin. _Marie_."

She scrambled out of the bed and wobbled on the stone floor. Amelia darted around, looking for any belongings that she would need to gather. She caught sight of her reflection and worried about her slightly puffy eyes... After a few moments, she realized that Erik was laughing. _Laughing_. Amelia looked away from the mirror and glared at him. Erik continued laughing hysterically, rolling around on the bed.

"_What_, may I ask, is so funny?" she snapped.

Erik's laughter finally trailed off and he took a few breaths. He sat up and smiled at her. Amelia's eyes narrowed. "This whole situation! You only slept here. And you're worried what the two girls who know you best will think!" He chuckled again. "I suppose I'm just slap happy. You're worried about propriety, but I'm just glad that you came last night…"

Amelia's eyes softened. "I'm glad as well." She smiled. "Thank you for telling me everything." She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her hands. "I can't imagine how difficult it was for you all this time. I can't imagine being in your place." She paused for a moment and her brow furrowed. "I can't imagine how I'm worth it…"

Amelia trailed off and looked away, suddenly embarrassed. She rarely felt insignificant, but she suddenly couldn't believe that Erik had done all this for her. That he had waited for her. After all this time, hadn't he grown tired of waiting? Or even just of her? Amelia felt herself blushing with chagrin. She failed to notice Erik inching closer to her.

"Mia," he said simply. His nickname for her sent chills down her spine, and warmth seeped through her veins. She looked up and was surprised by his sudden proximity. "You must know that you are _far_ more than worth it." Her lips parted as she thought _God, I hope so_. Erik smiled slightly. His fingers brushed her newly flushed cheek, then her jawline. Then he lowered his lips to hers.

A perfect balance of pressure and softness took her breath away.

It only needed to last a few moments. It wasn't an urgent, hot kiss. It wasn't necessarily a chaste kiss, either. It was simply Erik's way of proving his last statement.

As they pulled away, Amelia's eyes were still closed. She slowly opened them after a moment. Erik's maskless face didn't frighten or bother her. While the previous night had been the first time seeing it since losing her memory, it still felt familiar. That was good. Deep within the recesses of her mind, she remembered. Amelia suddenly wanted to thank Erik for waiting for her. So she tried to give him something as intimate as that kiss.

She lifted her hand and touched her fingertips to his raw cheek. Erik's eyes slid closed. She touched his right eyelid. His nose. His twisted lip. She moved closer and reached to touch his ear. Even that felt slightly different than normal. Amelia looked at his peaceful expression. Then she took advantage of her proximity and kissed him. Both of her hands cradled his face. This kiss was much softer, more comforting. Trusting.

They didn't pull away this time, keeping close after the kiss ended. Amelia's eyes swept his face, loving his differences now. She took in each abnormality and committed it to memory: she would _not_ forget again.

"You are amazing," Erik breathed.

Amelia smiled softly. Then a thought returned, pushing all others aside. She bit her lip in frustration. "Well, as much as I would love to stay forever in this… secret lair," she smirked, "I should go. I honestly do worry about propriety and Caitlin and Marie. Even if they don't think the worst of me, they might worry."

Erik sighed in agreement. "I'll see you at—well, I'm not really sure what time it is…" He turned to look at the clock on the side table. His eyes lingered on the velvet box. "Huh. Ten o'clock. I usually wake at eight no matter what. Oh, well. You go up to breakfast and I'll see you at lunch."

He stood and stretched. Amelia gazed at him furtively. She suddenly remembered his naked chest from the previous night and in her dream. A blush warmed her cheeks as she looked away. Now was not a time to think of such things. Erik turned to smile at her. He noticed the extra pink on her cheeks, but decided to ignore it.

"Not that I want you to leave, but… didn't you want to get going?" he tried to sound teasing.

Another blush. "I don't necessarily remember the way out, Erik."

"….Oh. Right."

* * *

Erik sat on his bed after returning from showing Amelia out. He let out a content breath. Never had he thought that things could go so well with her! The previous night had been quite an undulation of emotions, but she had stayed. After everything that had happened, Amelia stayed with him. Erik smiled.

As he changed, Erik's eyes wandered to the velvet box again. His lips pursed. There were two more things that he needed to give to Amelia. The velvet box and his song for her. But he would get there. They'd only been together a day! He didn't want to suffocate her with information, presents, love. No, he would take his time, and give her these things when she was ready. When _they_ were ready.

* * *

Amelia was walking down a corridor when Caitlin appeared from thin air. The frantic friend dramatically pulled Amelia into the nearest room.

"Where have you been? Marie and I have been worried! Well, Marie's been worried. I've been anxious to hear what happened…"

"Caitlin, calm down. Erik and I talked at the café yesterday. Everything's fine." Amelia could tell immediately that such a measly explanation would not satiate her friend. She sighed. "Afterward, he took me to his home. And he explained… everything."

Caitlin's eyes widened and her mouth stretched into and open smile. "Isn't the grotto beautiful?" she asked dreamily. Then, more seriously, "Wait. _Everything_?"

Amelia smiled softly. "Yes. Erik and I have quite the history." Her smile turned wry.

They sat in the practice room and talked. Amelia told Caitlin almost every detail. There were some things she preferred to keep between her and Erik. Not because she was embarrassed or unsure, but because their relationship was _theirs_. Just that thought left her feeling giddy.

By the end, Caitlin was dragging information out of her. There wasn't much else to tell. Finally, their rumbling stomachs gave Amelia an excuse for them to leave. Breakfast had passed, and it was already time for lunch. And time to see Erik again. She wondered distantly if it was bad that she missed him already.

As Amelia and Caitlin walked into the dining hall, Erik and Marie entered from a different corridor. Amelia felt relieved. Now she wouldn't have to spend time explaining and repeating everything to Marie. She must have caught up with Erik and asked him about everything.

They all met at their usual table. Moments later Peter and Thomas joined them. Each person sat next to or across from their partner. Amelia smiled to herself, glad that things were finally falling in to place. Marie eyed Amelia warily, as if she still wanted to talk. Perhaps they could do that later; Amelia wanted to enjoy her first lunch with Erik and the other two couples. Caitlin and Thomas sat close to each other, eating little and talking in low voices. She and Erik sat across from them, closer than they'd sat in the past. Her heart fluttered when she looked briefly up into his eyes. Marie and Peter sat across from each other, eating politely and stealing endearing glances at one another.

_This is how it's supposed to be_, Amelia thought as Erik slipped his hand into hers.

* * *

Weeks passed. Erik and Amelia were forced to give more information. They each told Caitlin and Marie everything… excluding the fact that they slept in the same bed. Although they only slept, the couple figured _some_ propriety would be helpful. When the two girls were satisfied with every detail, things began to settle.

Everyone eased into routines—some new, some old. Amelia continued her mail route; Erik helped her every once and a while. Marie and Caitlin continued with rehearsals. Operas were being performed quite often as it was the Populaire's peak season. With each passing performance, Marie earned higher dancing roles. Caitlin continued with the harp.

Sitting together at meals was a rarity now. Rehearsals, errands, and lessons made the three couples' schedules less flexible. So, in order to spend time together, they would arrange activities or trips on specific afternoons. As the spring turned into summer, the heat was frequently unbearable. One rather torrid afternoon, Thomas mentioned an oasis of relief.

"Has anyone heard of the lagoon?"

Everyone shook his or her head. The three couples were spread out beneath the shade of a couple chestnut trees. A light breeze maintained a rather comfortable temperature.

"I went there a few times when I was younger. It's a small pond in the middle of the forest a few miles east of Paris. A perfect place to cool off on a hot summer day…"

"Let's go!" Caitlin said, smiling eagerly.

"Do you know exactly where it is?" Peter asked.

Thomas shrugged. "I definitely remember how to get to the forest, but we might have a little adventure finding the pond. There used to be a small trail, but it's probably grown over by now."

Everyone went to their respective homes to change into appropriate attire. As Amelia walked with Caitlin, she realized that she hadn't been swimming since she was thirteen. Since her old life. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over her as she recalled playing in the creek with her brothers and sister. It was strange—she hadn't thought of her family in a very long time. It was strange not having a family anymore. In the instant Amelia thought that, Caitlin linked arms with her. She looked up at her best friend. She looked over at Marie, who smiled. Amelia thought of Erik and Peter and Thomas. Of Lucas. Of Monsieur Reyer. And she smiled.

She _did_ have a family.

* * *

They borrowed three horses from the Opera's stable; each couple rode a horse to the forest. Amelia was surprised to find out that Erik knew how to handle and ride horses. He'd worked with them a couple of times at the Opera House, but it mostly came natural to him. Erik mounted the black horse with a grace she hadn't seen before. She gazed up at him as he situated himself and held out his hand to her. Masculinity radiated from him. Amelia tried to catch her breath as he helped pull her onto the horse.

She—unlike Marie—decided to ride the horse like a man, and sat behind Erik. He looked over his left shoulder at her as she wrapped her arms around his torso. Amelia blushed slightly. Would this feeling in her stomach never cease? She hoped not…

Thomas and Caitlin led the way, of course. Caitlin also rode the horse like a man, but Thomas sat behind her. Amelia thought that position looked comfortably intimate. She remembered how amazing it felt to have Erik's chest meshed against her back, their shared warmth. When Amelia saw Peter and Marie, she smiled. Marie rode like a lady and sat in front of Peter. They were going a bit slower than she and Erik. Peter noticed Marie's slight discomfort and slowed down just enough.

Minutes passed as the three couples rode silently. Amelia lifted her head from Erik's back to look at the scenery. In a few moments they would escape the city and enter a familiar world. It had been so long since she enjoyed the balmy sunshine or cool water of a creek. She missed playing like a child. Climbing trees. Walking barefoot in the soft grass. Purposefully getting dirty. Amelia was completely absorbed in nature now. It was heavenly.

The moment Erik took her hand, however, Amelia returned to the horse ride. When he lifted her left hand from his torso, she held on tighter with the other. He kissed her fingers. Amelia blinked, staring at his dark hair. Erik's hand caressed hers in almost a sensual way. Ah, the sizzling in her stomach had returned! As he released her hand, Amelia decided that she wanted _him_ to feel that excitement as well.

She let her fingers wander, trying to feel the light muscles of his chest and stomach beneath his shirt. Erik's muscles tightened—in anticipation or discomfort or excitement, she did not know. Amelia leaned into his back, allowing her stomach and chest to rest there. Her face was centimeters away from his neck. She let her nose brush against his hairline so she wouldn't startle him. Her lips brushed against the hot skin of his neck, then she kissed him there.

Erik tried to concentrate on how fast they were going, on where the road was, even on the horse's ass in front of him. On _anything_ but Amelia's arms around torso, hands feeling for God knew what. Her soft chest pressed against his back. Her legs enveloping his. Her lips lingering at the nape of his neck, warm breath fanning there. Erik tried to concentrate. He tried.

Over the thumping of the hooves and her heart, Amelia heard Caitlin clear her throat. She opened her eyes and stared at her friend. Then she tried to see Marie and Peter, but they were far enough behind not to notice her display of affection. Luckily, Thomas hadn't noticed, either. Amelia felt a blush weighing heavily on her cheeks, and she sat back. Caitlin merely winked as she and Thomas pulled ahead. Mortified, Amelia turned her head in the other direction and held onto Erik as limply as possible.

After a few more minutes of silent riding, the reached the edge of the trees. Thomas and Caitlin dismounted and began to tie up their horse. Erik glided off the horse in one swift movement. Amelia stayed where she was, too embarrassed to look into his eyes.

"Mia."

Heart fluttering, she looked down. Erik's dark eyes glowed beneath his mask. They glowed that golden color as if he were sitting in dim candlelight. Only this time, the glowing seemed to come from within, rather than a reflection of the golden light. His lips parted and formed a slight smile. She didn't even realize that she had swung both legs to on side of the horse. She didn't notice that as she begun sliding down, Erik grasped her sides to help. He practically lifted her off the horse. But she didn't notice. All she saw were his eyes.

* * *

"Jump! Jump in, Amelia!"

Caitlin and Thomas had already jumped off the rocks into the pond. The water was a perfect depth, a perfect blue-green, and hopefully the perfect temperature…

Amelia stood atop the rocks and fallen tree trunks anxiously. It had been so long since she'd done anything like this! Where was her childish courage? Her toes hugged the rugged edge. She clenched her hands into fists. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed before she jumped in. The _whoosh_ of falling lasted for just a moment or two, then the water engulfed her. It was quite cold, but not freezing. As she broke the surface, Amelia gasped at the temperature and for air. Then she laughed with Caitlin.

After getting used to the water again, Amelia looked at Erik, who sat on the water's edge. She swam over to him. When she got close enough, she could touch the muddy bottom.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly.

Erik looked down at her. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and black trousers. The lengths of both were rolled to his elbows and knees. His pale feet lounged in the shallow water.

"No," he replied.

Amelia hesitated. "Do… don't you want to swim?"

Erik hesitated this time. "I do, it's just… I don't know how to go about it."

"You don't know how?"

"I know _how_, I just don't know about…" he gestured to his mask.

"Oh."

She sat there in the water gazing at him. He didn't want to take off his mask to swim. Had the others not seen his face yet? Or did he not want to get his mask wet? Amelia walked up the shore to sit next to him. She was clad in only undergarments—bloomers and a chemise. She had blushed furiously when taking off her outer clothing earlier. Erik continued looking pensively at the water once she sat down. She sat on his left side, his good side.

"Do you not want your mask to get wet?" Amelia practically whispered.

Erik took a slow breath before replying. "I'd like to think that's my only excuse."

She blinked. "So, the others… they haven't seen…"

"Well, Marie has… At the traveling fair. But, no one else. Just you." He looked at her for a fleeting moment.

Amelia thought for a moment. Then she leaned in close to Erik's face. She kissed his cheek.

"Come in the water," she whispered against his ear, "however _you_ want. Mask or nothing. You know I don't mind. These people love you, too." She kissed the skin beneath his ear and went back into the water.

Erik sat there, dazed. _Love you, too? Too?_ Heart pounding, he looked at his friends in the water. Marie also sat on the water's edge. Peter was beginning to wade out. Caitlin and Thomas were jumping, laughing, and splashing. Amelia was slowly swimming away from him. _Too?_ As he unbuttoned his shirt, Erik was thankful yet again for his newly formed body. Amelia had seemed to appreciate it earlier. With newfound confidence, he waded out into the water, mask still in tact.

_Too?_

He followed Amelia silently; Caitlin and Thomas made enough noise to distract her. She lingered for a moment, and Erik seized the opportunity to grab her ankle and pull her back. Amelia let out a scream, but laughter soon followed.

She floated on her back while he held her ankles. She spread out her arms, and her hair followed. Erik pulled her legs to his right side and gazed down at her. Amelia was an ethereal mermaid. Her skin looked rather creamy, but he could spot a few freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her caramel hair looked delicious. When she opened her eyes, Erik couldn't breathe. He finally found the match to her eyes. The color that could describe them perfectly. Her eyes were a shady lagoon in a green forest beneath a perfectly clear blue sky.

"You are beautiful," Erik breathed.

* * *

Erik and Amelia agreed to return to the lagoon that night. Alone.

At around midnight, Amelia slipped out of the dormitory. She walked swiftly through each dim corridor, heart racing in excitement of seeing Erik and anxiety of getting caught. As she descended the staircase to the lobby, Amelia held her breath. Then she literally walked out the front doors. Who knew it would be so easy? She giggled lightly and made her way to the stables.

Amelia entered the dark stables silently. She couldn't see anything; the only sounds she heard were her own heart and a couple of snorts from the horses. As she walked blindly down a row of stalls, Amelia's fingers brushed along the wall. The hay crunched lightly beneath her feet. The adrenalin slowly faded from her veins. Now she just had to wait for—

Amelia's heart and stomach leapt when a hand grasped hers. She turned abruptly to see only his mask in the darkness.

"Shall we?" he said softly, holding out his arm.

Amelia smiled, knowing he could see her expressions. She took his arm and followed him to a nearby stall. Erik adjusted everything before mounting the black horse. By then Amelia's eyes had adjusted just enough to see his outline and a couple of details. He helped her onto the horse again, only this time she sat in front of him. As they trotted out of the stables, Amelia leaned back into his chest, forehead grazing his neck. This was where she belonged.

Minutes passed and so did the changing scenery. Amelia could barely see anything once they left the city, and she was thankful for Erik's keen eyesight. She distantly hoped he remembered how to get there, because she sure didn't. She had been a little distracted before…

Eventually they made it to the edge of the forest. The entire ride had been silent. Erik and Amelia both held blankets as they made the trek through the trees. She remembered this part a bit better. The country silence was peaceful. The birds were quiet, but they could hear crickets, bullfrogs, wind rustling the leaves. Erik began humming. Amelia was tempted to close her eyes and listen, but the ground was just uneven enough that she might fall. She hadn't heard the tune before, but it wasn't aimless. After a while he trailed off.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"A song I wrote. I'll play it for you soon." There was something different in his voice as he replied. Amelia couldn't quite place it—eagerness, anxiety, and peace. Strange.

Soon they found the clearing that held the lagoon. There were little enough trees to see large patches of the blue, velvety sky. It was a new moon, but stars were everywhere. The water was perfectly still glass, reflecting the canvas above. The couple simply stood at the edge of the trees, soaking in the beautiful night.

"It will be cold," Erik teased.

"Just a quick dip, then we can look at the stars," she whispered.

Erik merely smiled and took off his shirt. The action made Amelia blush—at his naked half and at the fact that she would soon be wearing less… As he rolled up his pant legs, she began to remove her dress. Tonight, she'd opted for a simple cotton slip beneath. Erik glanced up for a moment, then stared. Amelia stared wide-eyed back. He stood and inched closer.

Amelia slowly reached up to his face, and traced the edge of his mask. Erik closed his eyes, relaxing at her touch. Then she slid the mask off. She gazed at him for a moment. The darkness enveloped his face, so she couldn't see the details very well. But she remembered what he looked like, and she loved it. Amelia let her fingers trail down his right cheek. Then she took his hand and led him to the water.

"Swim," she said softly.

Erik watched her walk into the cold water for a few moments before he followed. The white of her slip stood out against the inky water. Soon, the blackness engulfed all of her. She came back up for air seconds later. He continued following her out until he could no longer touch.

"Mmmm…" Amelia sighed as she floated on her back.

Erik swam to her and went under. The cold felt lovely against his usually uncomfortably warm cheek. He stayed under for a while, enjoying the gooseflesh rising on his arms and legs. When he came up for air, Amelia was right there. He gasped softly—for air and in surprise. He watched her eyes sweep over his face and linger on his lips.

Erik reached out, and his hand grazed her side. Amelia gasped as he pulled her close. He wrapped his arms around her waist, her hands rested on his chest. Then he kissed her.

This kiss was different from any other. Despite the cold water surrounding them, both became hot. One of Amelia's hands moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The other tangled into his hair. Erik pressed their bodies together, wanting to be as close as possible. She began gasping for breath while their mouths were still connected. Their tongues collided simultaneously, performing a primal tango.

Each movement assaulted Amelia's stomach with butterflies. The way Erik was kissing her… her heart was sure to explode. It was a good thing they were in water, or she would have collapsed. Her knees were bound to give out.

Erik couldn't believe he was kissing her this way, and she was returning his feelings! He loved how she grasped his hair, how she would run her fingers through it every so often. He loved that his mask wasn't in the way. He touched her neck, her arms, her cheeks. They were all so soft.

After a while, Amelia pulled away, gasping for air. They moved apart, both able to reach the muddy bottom. They stared at each other in the darkness, breathing heavily. Erik couldn't hear the crickets or bullfrogs over his heart. They continued gazing at each other.

"That was…" Amelia trailed off.

"Breathtaking," Erik finished.

After a moment, Amelia burst out laughing. She laughed hard and clutched her stomach. Her laugh permeated the entire forest, filling it with an enchanting sound. It was contagious. Erik followed suit and chuckled. He'd made a joke, after all. Once their laughter finally faded, Amelia sighed happily. She floated on her back again, looking at the vast sky above them. Erik just looked at her.

"Let's look at the stars," she whispered.

They got out of the pond and tried to dry off. The weather was still rather warm, so it felt good out of the water. They carried the blankets to a grassy spot with a perfect view of the sky. Erik lay down, and Amelia looked at his maskless face. It wasn't horrifying or even strange. It felt normal to see him this way. She smiled to herself and lay down as well.

"It's beautiful," she said softly. The stars were millions of tiny twinkles in the inky blue sky. A lighter section stretched across the middle, flecked with even more stars. Some were brighter than others. Some seemed blue, some purple, some white, and some orange. Some seemed closer than others. Some formed shapes, like clouds. All was silent except for the bugs and animals. It was a symphony of nature. It was beautiful.

After gasping at some shooting stars, Amelia grew tired. She nestled into Erik's side, fitting perfectly. He stroked her hair, knowing it would relax her further. Her fingers, which drew aimless circles on his chest, began to slow. Her breathing became deeper. Her hand now rested on his sternum. Erik sighed and closed his eyes.

_"Erik?" she sighed._

_"Hmmm?" he was barely awake._

_"I love you."_


End file.
